Full Circle
by Mike Taurguss
Summary: A solo Gabrielle adventure. The spirit of Xena sends the young bard on a quest to recover the Chronos Stone. A quest that takes her two thousand years into the future and pits her against an old enemy yearning for vengeance. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There was no wind to speak of, except the gentle touch of air as she moved about. There was dampness to it; however that seemed to chill her, bypassing her flesh and boring straight to the bones.

Gabrielle shrugged her shoulders and suppressed a shiver. Her dreams had been like this more and more as the year had passed. Still, the foreboding surroundings did not frighten her as they had in the beginning. She knew what to expect.

"Xena!" She called through the echoing mist about her. Not so much mist as tendrils of shrouded existence. The entire universe seemed to be made of these pale blue shimmering ghosts, fluttering like ragged curtains suspended in eternity. She could hear her voice echo in that endless void. Still, something about this was definitely wrong. Even at the longest, it would only take Xena a few minutes to join her. On this instance, she had been in the place for what might be counted several hours, with no sign of her best friend. Her eyes scanned her surroundings and she suppressed another shiver. No, there was something distinctly different about it this time. An air of quiet dread seemed to permeate her surroundings.

"Gabrielle," A voice seemed to call from a great distance.

Gabrielle froze. Her head turned as she attempted to get a bearing on the voice. It echoed weakly all around her.

"I'm here!" she called in return. "Where are you?"

"Keep coming," Xena's voice responded, sounding distant and unlike herself.

"What's the matter?" Gabrielle shouted as she resumed walking. "I can barely hear you!"

She followed a rough path meandering through the curtains of mist until she entered a small open space.

"I'm here, Gabrielle," Xena's voice said, more clearly but still very weak.

Gabrielle turned in a complete circle, but she still did not see her friend.

"I can't see you!" she called.

"I'm here," Xena replied, and Gabrielle could see her, barely, as if she were merely flickering in and out of reality. Gabrielle frowned. This had never happened before. Usually, when they met in the Dreamscape, it was as if she were alive and real again.

"What's happening?" Gabrielle asked.

"Very weak," Xena said. "Listen Gabrielle, there's not much time. I need you to do something for me?"

"Of course," Gabrielle replied instantly.

"This could be very dangerous," Xena continued.

Gabrielle smiled knowingly. "Since when isn't it dangerous?"

"I'm serious!" Xena said, and her anxiety fed some of the energy allowing her to flicker into more definite view for a few seconds.

"Something big is about to happen, and I need your help to stop it!"

"What?" Gabrielle asked.

Xena frowned, as if the effort to communicate was causing her pain.

"I need you to find the Chronos Stone," Xena said. Her voice was tight from exertion.

"Isn't that the stone that Autolocus found all those years ago?" Gabrielle asked. "I thought it was safely tucked away in a vault somewhere?"

"Just listen!" Xena hissed. "I don't have much time here. The Stone is gone. It must be returned. I need you to find it and bring it back to this time."

"This time?" Gabrielle frowned. "Xena, I don't understand?"

"Go to the Stygian Witches," Xena said, almost pleading now. "But be careful! They're old, but they're also very dangerous!"

Xena's voice was fading and her already faint form was dissolving like mist.

"Xena!" Gabrielle felt a cold lump of horror forming in her throat. "Xena! I can't hear you!"

"The Stygian Witches!" Xena's voice came again. "They can help you get to where you need to go! Just be careful! They'll try and…."

Xena's voice and form faded into nothing and Gabrielle was alone. Something like panic seized the young bard's heart.

"Xena!" she cried, suddenly afraid for the first time in her life. "Xena!"

Laughter seemed to echo all about her, a cruel and wicked laugh, filled with malevolence and hate. Then the universe seemed to blur into a brilliant white flash.

Gabrielle sat up as if someone had struck her. She rolled over onto her belly and looked about. The first rays of the sun were just beginning to glow behind the eastern hills. Her own little campfire had died to only a few glowing embers. The wind whistled a chill through the thick branches of the trees and brush surrounding her little campsite.

She shivered with the sudden chill and gazed about her, the words from the dream still fresh in her mind.

"Go to the Stygian Witches," Gabrielle repeated to herself. "Well, I guess I better get going."

Eight days later, she stood at the base of a craggy hill, looking up at the barely recognizable ruins of an ancient temple. She stared at the dizzying height and sighed.

"You never said anything about this," she muttered. She shrugged her pack off and let it fall to the ground. Then, gazing up at the white craggy wall before her, she began her long, slow ascent.

The climb was complex and treacherous. More than once, she lost her footing and nearly fell to her death, hanging by one hand like a dangling spider as she struggled to reestablish her hold. By the time she reached the summit, her muscles burned from the exertion and her body glistened with a sheen of perspiration. This was one time where she didn't miss her long hair. She clawed her way the last few yards and lay back on a long smooth slab of stone, breathing hard. The warm sunlight helped dry the sweat from her skin and kept her burning muscles from cramping. She took a long drink from her water skin and sat up, gazing out at the vast, desolate expanse of earth before her. The stone hills seemed more like broken teeth, glistening pale white or tan in the bright sun. Old brambles and the remains of ancient trees clawed up from between rocks, grasping for whatever sunlight and moisture they could absorb.

A rough path led up from her place, meandering between the dried out ruins of some ancient orchard towards a gaping maw that may have once been a decorative entry for the temple. The brilliance of the daylight seemed to stop at the threshold, making the place look like a hole in the world, dark and treacherous.

"She said I should be careful," Gabrielle muttered. "Somehow, I don't think she meant the climb."

She reached down and drew her sais from her boots, feeling more comfortable with her weapons in her hands. She stopped at the entrance, looking up at the ruined arch and it's long faded engravings. She could barely make out characters in the soft stone that might have once been words, but after only a few moments, she realized that they were indecipherable.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and plunged into an unnatural blackness.

She had to pause once she was within the structure, the dark was so complete that she thought she had been struck truly blind. She turned back and couldn't even see the entrance, though she had progressed only a few cautious steps. Her hand reached out and touched the stone wall, cool and slimy. The substance sizzled and tingled at her touch, though it didn't burn. Instantly she withdrew her fingers.

Voices drifted through the darkness to her ears.

"What is that?" One dusty female voice said.

"Is someone here?" A second, high pitched, whiny voice asked.

"Who has the Eye?" the dusty voice asked again.

"I do!" A hoarse voice croaked harshly.

"What do you see?" the whiny voice asked.

"Yes, tell me sister, what do you see?" the dusty voice also pleaded.

The hoarse voice dropped a note in pitch and chuckled as it spoke. "A woman," it said.

"Let me see!" The dusty voice barked and the sound of rustling was heard for a moment. "Yes, a young woman."

"Is she plump?" asked the whiny voice.

"Not plump," Dusty Voice said cheerily. "But well put together."

"Give it to me!" Whiny Voice said forcefully, and the rustling sound was heard again, then Whiny Voice wheedled.

"Come in, my dear," she said. "Don't hang about the door. It's rude."

Gabrielle blinked and began to discern shapes in the feeble light. She could see several torches flickering in the room. The light was barely enough to illuminate the walls. The main source of light was the greenish blue fire burning beneath a slowly boiling cauldron of massive proportions. Behind it, Gabrielle could make out the shapes of three, bone thin, old women with matted, stringy hair and wide, toothless mouths leering in her general direction. She winced in disgust when she realized that there was only wrinkled skin where the eyes should have been. One of them, the tallest of the three, stood holding a crystal orb to her forehead. She stared at Gabrielle through the strange device.

"My, what a lovely young lady," she wheedled.

"You've had it long enough," Dusty Voice said. She reached blindly and wrested the crystal orb from her sister.

"Ah," she said in approval. "Yes, quite lovely."

Gabrielle looked about the chamber and tried to keep from breathing through her nose. There was a rancid stench of decay about the place. Scattered about the floor in various heaps and piles were bones, most, she noted with growing unease, were human, decayed and gleaming in the shallow light. Small feet could be heard scurrying about beneath or around them, and occasionally one of the skulls would shift and clunk with an ominous hollow thump.

"Uh," Gabrielle started warily. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was sent here on an errand - an important errand."

"Disturb?" The hoarse one said. "Oh, please, my dear, you are not disturbing us."

"So few people come to visit these days," The whiny one wheedled.

"It seems that time has all but forgotten us," Dusty voice said dismally.

"If you wish to speak with us," Hoarse voice said suddenly. "Then you must come a bit closer. My sisters and I are a bit deaf, you see?"

Gabrielle smiled nervously. "I'm fine right here," she said loudly. "I'll just talk louder, okay?"

"She's shy," Whiny Voice wheedled. "How sweet."

"Perhaps we should go to her," Hoarse Voice suggested.

The two blind sisters placed an arm on Dusty Voice's moldering robes, and the three hags began shambling closer to Gabrielle. They reached half way across the room when the two blind ones released their hold on the central hag, and began wandering further apart. It didn't take a military genius to see that they were attempting to flank her.

"That's close enough!" Gabrielle barked, edging back to the entrance. She started when she backed against cold, slimy, unyielding stone.

The three hags paused and focused their eyeless faces on the sound.

Dusty Voice stared at Gabrielle through the crystal orb; her smile was more akin to a slavering dog than a genteel old woman. A hiss escaped her lips.

"She's armed," Dusty Voice said. She had obviously seen Gabrielle's sais.

"Ooo," Hoarse Voice croaked. "Does she have a sword, like the young fellow that was here two hundred years ago?"

Whiny Voice cackled in delight. "Or perhaps a spear, like that last Amazon woman?"

Dusty Voice spat. "They look like salad forks to me. You aren't a vegetarian, are you girl?"

As each of them spoke, they shuffled a few steps closer. Gabrielle could smell the rotting stench of their breath.

"Not another step!" she ordered.

The three hags froze.

"As you wish," Hoarse Voice said. Then the three of them launched themselves right at her.

Gabrielle dove clear, rolling through some thick viscous substance that she dare not consider. She came up, her weapons ready. The three hags cackled like ancient bats as they floated above the ground, circling. Dusty Voice saw her through the crystal and dove in.

An idea hit Gabrielle almost at the same time as the witch's attack, and she dove out of the way again. She swung with one of her weapons, heard a shriek of pain and then a soft clink as something landed amidst a pile of nearby bones.

Rolling over quickly, she grabbed the crystal orb and then retreated to a nearby corner.

"Where is it?" Dusty Voice wailed.

"What?"

"The Eye! I've lost the Eye!"

Then all three of the hags were on their hands and knees, feeling through the piles of refuse, bones and the Gods knew what else. Fragments of once living creatures flew in all directions as they wailed and cursed one another in voices that set the stone roof trembling.

Gabrielle stared down at the clear crystal orb curiously. She let the three witches wail and gesticulate for a few more minutes, enjoying their angst, and then she tossed the orb into the air and caught it with a loud slap.

"Looking for something?" she asked.

Hoarse Voice turned to face her, her lips in an expression of terror mixed with rage.

"Do you have it?" she demanded.

"What if I do?" Gabrielle countered.

"Give it back to us!" Dusty Voice screamed.

"First thing's first," Gabrielle said evenly. "I need your advice."

"Anything! Anything!" Whiny Voice cried. "Just don't hurt the Eye!"

"Good." Gabrielle nodded, edging back towards the entrance. "Now, then. I was sent here to seek advice about the Chronos Stone?"

At those words, the three hags fell silent. They stood perfectly still, as if frozen in awe at her statement.

"What do you know of the stone?" Dusty Voice asked in a hush.

"Only that a friend of mine used it to move through time a long time ago," Gabrielle said. "And that another friend of mine asked me to find it."

"And your friend?" Hoarse Voice asked. "The one who requested that you find it?"

"Her name was Xena," Gabrielle replied, suddenly feeling that familiar twinge of sadness.

"Ah," Whiny Voice said, a single bony finger rising. "The mighty warrior."

"Isn't she dead?" Dusty Voice said coldly as she chuckled in her throat.

"Long dead," Hoarse Voice cackled.

"Hey!" Gabrielle shot, suddenly feeling wrath burn within her.

"Oh, my," Dusty Voice said. "I take it she was dear to you?"

"The stone?" Gabrielle pressed, forcing the three hags back on track.

"What of it?" Dusty Voice asked.

"Do you know where it is?" Gabrielle asked.

At that question, the three of them chuckled softly.

"It isn't so much a question of where," Whiny Voice said.

"But when," Hoarse Voice finished. "The Chronos Stone is not bound by the familiar. It transcends time itself."

"I don't understand," Gabrielle said.

"Of course you don't! How could you?" Dusty Voice shot back vehemently. "It is beyond your feeble intellect to understand!"

"The stone follows the currents of Time itself." Whiny Voice said in a reverent tone.

"Then how do I find it and return it?' Gabrielle asked.

"You have to follow it," Hoarse Voice replied as if she were instructing a small child. "In order to do that, you must transcend time yourself."

"And that isn't easy," Whiny Voice said with a sick grin.

Gabrielle tossed the Eye back into the air and caught it again with an even louder slap. All three witches started in fright and stayed perfectly still.

"More answer," Gabrielle said darkly. "Less art."

"In order to find the stone, you must follow it through time," Dusty Voice said quickly. She held her hand out in a staying gesture. "It is drawn to the supreme moment. The Joining of the Heavens calls to it. You must travel to the time when it shall be needed next and claim it for your own."

"Into the future," Hoarse Voice said.

"The distant future," Whiny Voice finished. "To a far off land where even the Gods have been forgotten or mostly abandoned."

"And where we no longer exist," Hoarse Voice added.

"And how do I do that?" Gabrielle asked, suddenly feeling like the task before her was impossible.

"The Eye," Hoarse Voice said earnestly. "Just as it has the power to transcend our blindness, so, too, can it send you on your journey."

"All you must do is gaze into the Eye and it will show you where to go," Dusty Voice added. "It will send your soul to that place, and your body will follow."

"Once there, you will have until the full moon to discover the stone, or remain trapped in that time for the rest of your life."

"Though you may not like the results if you fail," Whiny Voice said, her grin reasserting itself."

"Simply press the Eye to your forehead, as we do, and you shall see the place. You will see all you need to know.," Dusty Voice said, her nervousness building. "Then all you need do is step through the doorway behind you."

"Seek the Valkyrie," Hoarse Voice said in a suddenly subdued, almost melodic tone. "It carries the sword of the dispossessed one. He shall be your ally."

"More than an ally," Whiny Voice added with a sly grin.

"He will be the closed circle," Dusty Voice finished.

"Come," Hoarse Voice said, stretching out her claw like hand. "We've answered your questions. Indeed, we've given you more than we should!"

"Give us back the Eye!" Whiny Voice screamed at her.

"In a minute!" Gabrielle said sharply. She stared down at the orb and gazed into its smoky interior. The tiny clouds and fractures within seemed to move like clouds.

With a quick glance up at the three witches, she drew the Eye up against her forehead and closed her eyes.

The image flashed in her mind of a place, surrounded by tall trees, covered in leaves that were the color of gold or fiery orange. Others were the color of deep red at sunset. The shapes of the leaves and the trees were unknown to her, as was the terrain.

Then the image flashed before her again, showing the silhouette of a man, staring at her. She couldn't see the features of his face, only the deep thoughtful look in his dark brown eyes, as if he were staring right through her. She felt an indescribable thrill in that gaze for only a moment, and then the image faded and was replaced by another, familiar and more evil.

It was a woman, dressed in the animal skins of a shamaness, with thin features and wild, dark eyes that burned with a mad light. She grinned at her like a hungry cat.

"You set your feeble will against mine, child?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"Alti," Gabrielle gasped. Then the vision was gone. She drew the orb from her forehead and blinked. The previously hidden exit was now plain to see, off to her left, as was another doorway directly behind her.

The three hags had stayed perfectly still.

"There," Dusty Voice said with finality. "You have seen your object, your ally, and your enemy. We can do no more for you."

"The Eye!" Whiny Voice screamed again in desperation.

Gabrielle smiled. There was no way she was about to walk over and hand it to them. She looked down at the ground.

"Here," she said, and she rolled the crystal towards them on the mucky stone floor. "Thanks for everything."

Gabrielle turned and fled through the entrance, the howls of the three hags hot on her heels. Suddenly the screams and curses faded away and she felt herself being propelled ahead, faster than anything she had ever experienced before. It felt as though she were falling sideways through an open tunnel. Her feet left the ground and she was hurled out of the void into the cool night air. She saw the ground rush past beneath her and then she struck, rolling through the thick blanket of dead leaves, sending them scattering into the air. There was a sharp pain in her head and she remembered no more.

Shilah sat back from the small collapsible table and stared at the cards before her from a distance, as if the whole of the images might give her more than the individual cards themselves. She was a short, round woman with thick, long, dark hair and deep, happy dark eyes. She smiled as she pressed one finger against her mouth, pursing her lips in thought.

"Well?" her client asked with a mild air of impatience. Shilah looked up at him and gave him a knowing look. The man only brushed his long dark hair out of his eyes and smiled back somewhat mischievously.

He was tall, and solidly built. The build of an athlete, Shilah had often thought to herself. Lithe and powerful, but not bound.

"I'm thinking," Shilah said in a soft, firm voice.

"Yeah," her client responded smoothly. "But I though the closer we got to Samhain, the easier this was?"

"David," Shilah chided him. "You of all people know that reading for friends is particularly difficult. Preconceptions can easily become misconceptions."

David shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Even for my High Priestess?"

"Only when reading for her favorite High Priest," Shilah replied. "Now be quiet and let me think."

This particular night, she sat across from him, the cards laid out in a circle. One by one, her delicate fingers turned the cards over.

"Something is coming," she said quietly. She studied the circular spread closely for several more minutes and sighed.

"Coming to you, David," She finished. She turned several more cards over in the spread and frowned as she read them.

The Fool, The Nine of Pentacles, The Ace of Pentacles, the Ace of Swords, the Six of Pentacles, The Two of Cups, The Sun, and Justice all encircled The Knave of Wands.

David leaned over the table, staring down at the cards, hoping he might glean more detailed information from them. He knew that to read for oneself was not the wisest thing to do. Reading cards, or any other form of divination for that matter, is best when done for another. There should always be a reader and a subject, preferably a reader who is unfamiliar with his or her subject. Very few masters, like Shilah, are able to do readings for close friends and associates while remaining completely neutral. David's attempt at levity was not helping the situation either. She noticed his prying eyes and frowned.

Shilah reached across the table and gently slapped his hand. He sat back quickly, looking up at her as she stared across the table into his eyes. She smiled and waggled her finger.

"No peeking," she chided.

He sat back more comfortably, accepting the rebuke, and waited.

"You will find success and happiness in your past?" she finished as if asking a question. "No, that's not right." Then she turned several more cards and placed them on the wheel.

The Lovers, The Chariot, The High Priestess, The Ten of Cups, and Death.

Shilah stared at these as well, gleaning information for several long moments, and then she sat back and stared at David kindly.

"Your future happiness will be found when you explore the past." She shrugged. She stood up and went to the small stove where a kettle had just begun to sing. Quickly and neatly, she prepared two steaming cups of strong tea and presented him with one of them.

He took the cup and looked at her skeptically.

"Even for you," he said. "That's pretty freaking cryptic."

Shilah only shrugged. "That's what it says, David. I don't know what it is. I only know what they say. You understand that." She looked at the cards again. "It is part of what is to come." She glanced back down at the spread and continued. "Maybe a major part of it? We know a lot is going to happen to the world in the next year, and the coming Harmonic Convergence is going to be a big part of it." She studied David for a long time.

"I think it will affect you more than anyone else I know." She smiled. "In any event, the ritual is set for that night. I just need to find the exact time."

David smiled. "What, you don't know when to hold the ritual yet? We only have ten days left." He couldn't resist teasing her just a little bit. "Your Spirit Guides' holding out on us, or what?"

Shilah rose and stepped over to the altar in a swirl of black cloth. The silver thread inlaid in the fabric twinkled like minute stars. She lit a few more sticks of incense and gave a shrug.

"Sometimes they talk and sometimes they don't." she said. "I'll know when the time is right for me to know." She settled back into her chair and began shuffling the cards back into the deck.

"What about you, David?" she asked. "How are you doing?"

The big man shrugged. "I still feel like the whole world is trying to get into my body. I'm feeling the energy of everything out there." He realized that his explanation was woefully inadequate. Leaning forward, he tried desperately to put what he felt into something more concrete.

"It's like, I don't know, like a battery sitting on a charger. The energy gets stored up and up until it's full. I feel like I'm being, overcharged, or something." He sighed, still not a very good analogy. Someone sympathetic to the vibrations of the world and all its energies can become overwhelmed by it if they don't attempt to maintain some control. The effort to suppress or block all that input can become quite a strain during certain peak moments in the year. At this particular time, one of those moments was rapidly approaching, and he felt it in every fiber of his being.

"And the headaches?" Shilah asked in motherly fashion.

"If I ground myself a couple of times a day, they don't get too bad." He admitted.

"Are you still meditating?" Shilah continued.

"Every night." David answered. "It's also getting much easier for me to float." He smiled. "I must admit, I enjoy it. I never know where I'll go, or what I'll see."

"That's good." Shilah smiled. "I think we've finally moved beyond that little plateau you've been stuck at this last year."

She studied him for a moment and her eyebrows rose in that ever so wonderful expression that told him she knew he was holding something back. "Is there something else?" she asked.

"I'm starting to see auras," He said after a long pause. "Nothing definite, but there's a haze around people and objects that I can perceive. I was never able to do that before."

"When did this start?" Shilah asked, trying to contain her excitement.

"Just in the last few weeks. I didn't mention it at the time, because I wasn't sure what it really was at first."

"That's wonderful," Shilah exclaimed. "You keep advancing like this and I'll have to start getting ready to give you the test for Third Degree."

"I don't know if I want that," David said. "After that it's High Priest, and I'm not ready for that yet."

Shilah smiled. "David, you can't stay the Coven Thug forever."

David chuckled quietly. The title was a result of a mix of words during one of the covens many gatherings over the last ten years.

His ability to harness and move energy had been one of his gifts. It had taken the better part of the last decade for Shilah to help him learn how to control that energy. During one of the rituals in the past, she had jokingly called David their Coven Thug because he had a tendency to wield the energy like an untrained brute might wield a club. After a good laugh among the entire inner circle, the title had stuck.

The two of them stayed up long into the night, talking about the coming darkness and trading theories on how it would affect the world. Those debates were the bread and butter of David's' classes. They were more like conversations intermingled with wisdom and forgotten knowledge. At times, he would gain more insight from those random conversations than from any structured lesson she might have planned, and he suspected that Shilah realized this as much as he did.

When the evening was done, Shilah embraced David fondly and sent him on his way.

Where Shilah lived in a suburban area, David's home was more rural, with long winding country roads, and an address posted as a Rural Route instead of being associated with any particular township. It felt like a place completely removed from the world.

David had inherited the property from his family and had taken three years to restore the old cabin for permanent residence. A new addition to the home for three bedrooms and a basement, as well as the plumbing, so that the bathroom wasn't a dinky shed out thirty feet from the structure.

The inheritance had also set him up well for the rest of his life. If he chose, he would never have to work again.

He had taken the last four years off, trying to determine if that was what he wanted to do. In that time, he had gone back to school, full time, and earned a degree in Philosophy as well as the classical education that he was quite proud of. He learned how to speak Latin, French and Greek reasonably well and had traveled to Europe as an upperclassman, seeing the ancient cities and the monuments from long ago.

David let the cool night air flow over him as his motorcycle rumbled down the expressway, heading back towards his own home. He made one diversion and stopped at a local bar to share a few drinks with friends. After several hours of socializing, the group of eight motorcycles thundered out of the parking lot and wound their way down the dark country roads. The headlights shone like brilliant beacons, illuminating the asphalt before them, or bouncing off the branches of trees, many of them still heavy with the colored leaves of a late autumn. Currents of wind caused by the passing machines sent leaves tumbling through the air only to flutter back down to the earth as the rumbling rolled on. At some point, one of the riders, a skinny young man called Dusty, reached over and slapped David on the shoulder.

"Tag!" he shouted. His bike shot off into the darkness. David grinned and twisted the throttle in pursuit. The six others also increased speed, hoping to see the outcome of the unusual competition.

The two motorcycles vied for position as David tried to get next to his friend and tag him back. A quick glance at the speedometer showed he was doing nearly seventy miles an hour. The big V-Twin roared with delight as he slid up next to Dusty and tagged him back before dropping down a gear and shooting away.

"Oh, I don't think so!" Dusty shouted after him. There was no way he was losing now. He matched David's maneuver and stayed on his tail, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, his mouth open wide in a determined grin.

"Come on, Hotshot!" David taunted over the rushing wind. "Whatcha got!"

Suddenly a silver gray blur shot up next to them and a hand reached out and slapped David in the back of the head.

David looked to the right and saw another friend, Derek coasting alongside on his low slung Hyabusa.

"Are you two whacked, or what?" his voice pierced the night. "Knock that shit out!"

At the same time, Dusty pulled up and tagged David again.

"Gotcha!" Dusty shouted triumphantly.

Derek's dark olive skin was all but invisible in the confines of his silver helmet, only his eyes shone in the faint light, dark with annoyance.

Gabrielle slowly rolled over, feeling the leaves crunch beneath her. The rough edges tickled and jabbed into the flesh of her back. The air was cool and dry, too cool for the clothing she had on. It felt downright cold compared to the heat of the cliff she had recently finished climbing. It was also filled with a deep woody scent. She put a hand to her head and felt the slight bump on the left side, just above her ear.

"Nice," she admonished herself. "Real graceful landing." She slowly rolled back over and got to her feet, surveying the surroundings. It was the same as the vision she had seen through the Eye. Tall trees with multicolored leaves stood silently over her, their limbs intertwining and creaking in the gentle wind. She looked down at the two sais in her hands and mentally admonished herself for not putting them back before her dash through the doorway. She was lucky she hadn't landed on one and killed herself.

After a few moments of consideration, she chose a direction and began picking her way through the trees. She walked for a good ten minutes before she could see the signs of a path or road ahead. The cold began to bite into her flesh and she shivered slightly as she rubbed her shoulders, trying to keep the blood flowing. She needed to find shelter soon, or the cold might be a problem. She had no gear, no food and no supplies. Those were all lying at the base of a cliff, the Gods knew where. At least her purse was still tightly tied to her belt. Once she found shelter, she would be able to pay for a room and re-supply for the next portion of her journey. She scrambled up the small embankment and stopped when she reached the road.

It was paved with a material she had never seen before. She knelt down and brushed some of the leaves away, staring down at the tightly packed gray mass of small pebbles, held in place by a substance that she could not identify. She ran her hand over the rough surface, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Something within the surface began to tremble slightly and she could hear a deep rumbling sound off in the distance. It was like thunder, but unlike it at the same time, and it changed pitch in a way that had nothing to do with the wind. It seemed more alive than natural. Gazing off in the direction of the sounds, she saw several glowing points of light, careening wildly down a distant part of the strange road towards her. They were moving fast. Faster than anything she had ever seen before in her life. There was no time to get into cover. She rose and drew her sais out, ready to meet the strange new threat head on.

The nearby hilltop began to glow with the approaching sound, and suddenly, with a deafening roar, three blinding sets of light burst into view, heading straight for her! The thunderous sound cut off suddenly and the three strange lights scattered to avoid her. The only thing she remembered hearing was a distinctly human voice shouting, "Whoaaaaaaaaaah!" and a sharp screeching sound on the pavement beneath her feet. Then the three things were past her. She turned to face them as they came to a halt. She saw each creature was not a creature, but some type of two wheeled conveyance. They were each similar, but also distinctly different in appearance and color. And they each carried a human passenger.

The three figures were looking down at their conveyances, as if checking to see if they were damaged, then three pairs of eyes turned towards her, dark with anger.

At the same time, five more of the things crested the hill behind her and also came to a quick halt.

One of the riders in the group behind her said something in a strange language. It was answered by an annoyed voice in front of her as a single figure removed a silver helmet. He was a stocky man, with dark skin and eyes. He said something in a quick excited tongue and then looked at his other companions.

Gabrielle stood her ground. If she had to fight, the three before her would offer less resistance. Then she could break out and run.

One man, of average height, with a lean slender build, dismounted his vehicle the same way she would dismount a horse. He took a few steps towards her and then stopped when he saw the sais in her hand. He said something, then repeated it, then shrugged and looked at the other two.

The one in the middle simply leaned forward, his arms resting on a pair of silver bars, his head lowered slightly, and his dark eyes staring at her in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

The olive skinned man reached into a thick leather shirt or coat and drew out a small dark, L shaped object. He pointed it at her.

This provoked a response from the central figure. It turned its shaggy head and said something to the olive skinned man. The man replied but did not lower the object pointed at her.

"This is not good," Gabrielle whispered to herself, her eyes darting between the trio before her, and the five more behind her, all of them with eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to make a move.

The tall figure said something else to the olive skinned man and then stepped from his conveyance, interposing himself between his companion and Gabrielle. He held his hands up in a gesture of calm surrender and spoke to her. The words were unfamiliar. She couldn't understand what he was saying, try as she might. She thought she could catch various syllables of words she knew, but they sounded completely alien.

The man before her was dressed much like the others, with a black jacket of hide, dark blue pants, and sturdy black boots. He was moving slowly and inexorably closer to her, his hands now moving slowly up and down. He was gesturing for her to lower her weapons. She stared at him with fierce green eyes and shook her head defiantly.

The man fixed his dark eyes on hers, and she saw, for the first time, that same gaze she had beheld in the vision. Those dark, thoughtful eyes! He continued to approach. It would soon be at the point where she would either have to attack or surrender. She didn't understand what he was saying, didn't know what to make of this entire situation, and didn't know what to think. It was all overwhelming her in one moment.

"Don't come any closer!" She finally blurted out in a mixture of determination and panic.

The man stopped and stared at her in wonder.

TBC

14


	2. The Zombie Squad

**The Zombie Squad**

David stood before the young woman, his eyes fixed on the two wicked looking weapons. She was dressed in a simple halter, skirt and sturdy boots; all dyed a deep reddish brown color and decorated with beads of varying hues. Her short hair was a golden blond and her eyes were deep, ferocious and green. She looked like a lioness, ready to spring.

David kept his hands up. "Just take it easy," he said calmly.

"Man," Derek said from behind him. "Just get out the way."

"Put the gun away," David said over his shoulder. Then he turned back to the girl before him. "We both know you won't use it."

"Hey man, she's throwing down on us first." Derek noted. "You better believe I'll pop a cap in her ass if she tries something!"

David took another slow step towards her. "My friend is getting nervous," he continued. "Just put the knives down."

Suddenly she blurted something in a foreign tongue. David's dark eyes fixed on her in wonder and surprise.

"What?" he asked excitedly. He stood still and gesticulated. "Speak again! Anything! What did you just say?"

"This is a waste of time, amigo," Derek put in. "Just leave her be and let's get out of here."

"Derek," David said harshly. "Just shut the hell up. She doesn't understand you!"

"What are you talking about?" Derek blurted.

The woman before him began speaking again, her eyes flicking to Derek and Dusty in turn as she spoke. David listened for a few moments, not certain of what he was hearing, and then a smile began to spread over his face. As it did, the young woman's voice lost some of its intensity and slowed to silence. A frown creased her brow. Then she spoke sharply, shaking her weapons at David emphatically.

David only chuckled out loud, in spite of the threat the girl presented.

He said something to her in her language. She replied and David turned back to Derek and laughed in surprise.

"Holy shit," he exclaimed. He gestured to his friend. "Put it away, Derek."

"What the hell was that?" Derek asked, still reluctant to put down his nine millimeter security blanket.

David turned back to the woman again and spoke haltingly. She replied, her posture easing slightly. David turned back.

"That is Greek," he said. "Mostly."

"How in the hell do you know that?" Dusty asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Remember those four years I wasn't around?" David said.

Dusty nodded.

"Classical education," David tapped his temple and smiled. Then he turned back and muttered to himself. "Now I just need to remember it all."

He looked back at Derek again. "Put the damned gun away, will you!" he barked.

Reluctantly, Derek did as instructed and David turned back to face the young woman.

He held up his hand, begging patience and then haltingly began to speak to her again.

The five other figures on the bikes behind her simply waited. They were tense and ready to fight, if it came to that.

The young woman listened carefully to David's halting speech. After several moments, her face began to break into an amused grin as David fumbled for the correct pronunciations. Finally she laughed out loud and lowered her weapons.

Behind her, Tommy, a man of massive proportions, cocked his head as he listened to the exchange. He could hear the easing of the tension between his friend and the stranger. Finally he could bear it no longer.

"Hey, Shakespeare," he said. "Ask her why she was standing in the middle of the damned road?"

David snapped out of his focus on the girl and looked over to his friend.

"I'm working on it," he replied. "I haven't spoken Greek for nearly two years.! I'm a little rusty!"

"Well," added Freddie, a thin, tan man with long straight dark hair and distinctive Native American features. (I don't know if it matters to you, but I think the politically correct term is "Native American".) "Can we work on it somewhere else?"

"Yeah," Another man, Brian added, slighter in build than Tommy, but still large in his own right. He rubbed his balding head. "It ain't getting no warmer out here."

"It's not like we're sitting in the middle of the road or anything," Steve added. He was a slim, middle sized man with a long gray ponytail and flinty gray eyes. In spite of the warning, he seemed aloof and unconcerned by the potential hazard of having a conference in the middle of the road.

Several of the others chuckled in response, also showing a complete lack of concern.

Gabrielle looked back and forth between the stranger and his companions as they spoke. She was feeling more relaxed, now that the language barrier had been bridged. Although she thought his dialect somewhat strange, at least the two of them could communicate.

Now the stranger was holding a quick conference with several others in his band. Then he turned back to the one holding the strange object in his hand and said something in a tone that conveyed annoyance. Reluctantly, the olive skinned man slid the strange object back into his coat.

The man turned back to her and held his hands out in gesture of apology.

"Uh, sorry," he said. "We're not accustomed to finding, uh, strangers, in the middle of the road at night. Not armed ones anyway?" he gestured to the sais in her hands. She glanced down at them and then back up into his eyes.

There was confusion there, and understandable curiosity, as well as a few other hints of emotion, but nothing malevolent or deceptive.

"Sorry," she said and she slid the two weapons back into her boots. Then she looked at him again. "Where am I?"

The stranger shrugged. "On Fairfield Road, in Northern Lake County, Illinois," he offered. It was immediately apparent that the names meant nothing to her.

"Where is that in relation to Athens?" Gabrielle asked.

"Athens? Georgia or Greece?" the man repeated in surprise. "No where near, in either case, I'm afraid."

"I'm in a different country?" she asked.

"Or different continent," the man responded, his own confusion growing as he spoke to her.

"Shakes! Tommy blurted again. "Road-cold, clubhouse - warm!"

"Beer!" Steve also added.

"Besides, you still owe me a bout from the other day," Dusty added, grinning.

"Okay, okay," David replied. "Look, you guys want to go ahead, then fine. I'll meet you there in a little while."

"Fine by me." Said Brian, or Oddball, as his friends called him. His black Buehl shone in the moonlight. He hit the start switched and the engine rumbled to life.

The woman jumped at the sound of the engine, her hand instinctively reaching for her weapon, but she stopped when she saw the relaxed look on the mans' face.

"I'll keep the beer cold for ya," Oddball said sarcastically, and then he put the bike in gear, coasted up past Derek and Dusty, stood the front end up with a roar of the engine, and rode a wheelie at least a quarter mile before letting it settle down again. The headlight flashed through the tree branches overhead.

One by one, the others followed suit with the exception of Tommy. He merely sat astride his maroon Yamaha. He folded his massive arms over his barrel chest and stared at the strange girl.

"What's the problem?" David asked.

"I don't like it," Tommy replied in his smooth southern drawl. "I don't care what you think; I've worked too many doors not to notice how someone carries themselves. I been watching the way she moves. Now, I'm not saying she could kick your ass or anything, but I know she could do some damage. I'll go when you do. If she wants to come along, that's fine." He shrugged.

David looked at the young lady again and back at Tommy, now duck walking his bike to the side of the road. Tommy then planted his feet, crossed his arms and resumed his pose of a moment before, his eyes never leaving her.

Gabrielle looked over at the massive man. He was easily twice her width at the shoulders and a head taller. His arms had to be as large around as her thighs.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked nervously, not liking the look this walking wall was giving her.

"He doesn't trust you," The man replied haltingly. Then he placed a hand over his heart and gave a small bow.

"My name is David," he said and then he gestured to the big man. "And this is Tommy."

The girl nodded. "Gabrielle," she said.

David turned to Tommy. "Her name's Gabrielle." He said.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady," Tommy acknowledged with a nod, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. "She coming with us, or not?"

"Right," David said. "I was getting to that part." He looked back at Gabrielle and smiled nervously.

"It's getting a bit cold out, and my friend would like to know if you would be interested in joining us for a drink?" David offered. He realized as soon as he had said it that the offer sounded terribly lame. "At least it would be somewhere warm?" he finished.

Gabrielle seemed a bit uncertain. She glanced over at Tommy, still motionless as a frozen Titan, watching her. She suddenly realized that he was merely gauging her to see if she represented a threat. He would not do anything unless she provoked him.

She looked back at David, his deep eyes filled with patience and expectation.

"Well?" he asked.

She shivered suddenly, as if noticing the cold for the first time. She considered the two men for a moment, realizing that she might very well be able to defeat them in a fight if it came down to that, but it would not be easy. Besides, the man before her, David, was the man she had seen in the vision. She knew that Alti was the enemy in the vision, so she assumed that meant this David might be her potential ally, or at the very least, one who could help her find this Valkyrie, or the mysterious sword.

"Alright," she finally said. "But I don't have my, um," she pointed at David's vehicle.

David shrugged out of his heavy jacket and handed it over to her.

"You can ride with me," he offered. "But you might want to put this on. As I said, it's a bit chilly."

Beneath the jacket, Gabrielle noted his lean athletic build. He wore a long sleeved thick shirt of some kind, and a dark hide vest clustered with gold and silver buttons.

She took the jacket from his outstretched hand and was shocked at the weight of it. It was of thick leather, lined in a quilted fabric that she had never seen before. She noticed the colorful artwork on the back as she turned it to pull it on. It was of a dark knight astride a midnight steed. The knight was galloping across a field, followed by a horde of skeletal mounted warriors. At the bottom corner was the image of a scroll, with various characters written on it in a language she couldn't decipher. The garment was also several sizes (at least) too large for her, and hung down past her hip.

David smiled genuinely and gestured to the vehicle.

"Come with me," he offered.

She followed him over to the conveyance and studied the gleaming silver shining from it. Whatever this thing was, it was beautifully and intricately crafted.

David straddled the vehicle, settling down on a black cushion. Then he reached behind him and flipped two small pegs down from the sides.

"Put your feet here and here," he instructed. "Just climb on."

Gabrielle followed his instruction and climbed aboard, settling down behind him.

He turned a small knob and pressed an orange button, and the vehicle rumbled to life. She stiffened in alarm. She did not know what the sound was, but it conveyed a feeling of power as it vibrated beneath her. She looked down and realized that her skirt was riding a bit higher than it should, and nervously attempted to adjust it.

David's hands reached behind and grasped hers gently. He pulled her forward against his back and pulled her hands together about his waist.

"Better hang on," he suggested. Then he squeezed a lever with his left hand and kicked another lever with his left foot. Gabrielle looked behind her at Tommy. His vehicle coasted forward just as David's began to move with a gentle lurch.

Suddenly, they were moving faster than anything she could ever remember seeing. The cold wind whipped through her hair and sent chills up her legs and spine.

The dark red vehicle ridden by Tommy coasted up alongside and the two of them rolled down the road into the deepening night.

Gabrielle gazed at the landscape flying by in the shadowy night, and she smiled suddenly.

"This is amazing," she said in spite of the frigid air.

"What?" David asked. "This? We're barely moving?"

She frowned nervously at that. They were travelling along at a pace that was faster than her horse ever could have maintained. She clasped her hands tighter about David's waist.

"Relax," David said, feeling the grip tighten about him. "We aren't going that fast! Haven't you ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"A what?" Gabrielle asked, unsure of the new word.

"Christ, lady," David laughed. "Where the hell are you from?"

"Poditea," Gabrielle answered, thinking it was a legitimate question.

"Podi-what?" David replied. "I thought you were from Athens?"

"Near Athens, yes." Gabrielle replied. "My home is about two days' journey from there."

"Two days!" David said in surprise. He looked back at her in confusion. She shrugged.

David was suddenly concerned that he might have a crazy foreign woman on his bike.

"What's with your Greek, by the way?" He asked. "You have a strange way of speaking it."

"I speak just fine, thank you," Gabrielle retorted. "But yours could use some work."

Again David frowned. Granted, he had not had need to use the language since college, but he thought it had come back rather well, given the circumstances. His professors at University had been impressed with his ability to master Greek, Latin and some French in a relatively short time. They had said he was more fluent in them than most. Now this stranger said his Greek needed work?

"What's on your mind, Shakes?" Tommy shouted from beside him.

David smiled to himself.

"Nothing," He shouted back. "Just considering a theory."

"Want to share with the uneducated among us?" Tommy continued.

"The Law of Consonantal Shift," David replied.

"The law of what?" Tommy asked, and for the first time, Gabrielle actually saw levity touch the big man's face. "Never mind, tell me about it over a beer!"

The two motorcycles continued down the main road for several miles before turning off into a small narrow dirt road. They crunched and bounced deeper into the woods until they came to a large dark building.

David tapped a button with his left hand, and Gabrielle heard several short, loud beeps from the vehicle.

As if in answer, a large door slid to one side and the two motorcycles coasted within.

The garish white light flooding the room caused Gabrielle to blink, and the warm air caressed her frozen legs and fingers. The two vehicles coasted past several more motorcycles and a few other, larger vehicles covered by thick tarps. David backed his motorcycle into a small space between two others and killed the engine.

"Watch the pipe," David cautioned, gesturing down at the silver tube just beneath her right foot. She could feel the heat from it radiating through her boots.

Cautiously she swung her leg over and stepped off, looking about the place in wonder.

Many glowing rods hung from the ceiling, creating the pale light, and she could hear a quiet buzz coming from them. In the garish light, she got a better look at the vehicle that David had brought her on. It was a deep crimson, almost black color, and sparkled like a billion tiny metallic stars. As she listened, she could hear a ticking sound coming from within the thing.

"What's that?" she asked, indicating the sound.

"What's what?" David replied. Then he realized. "Oh, just the motor cooling down." Again he looked at her confused.

Off to one side, the other one – Dusty - was rummaging through a large metallic cabinet. When he emerged, he was holding a bundle of white cloth, a strange looking helmet and a long, narrow bladed sword. He shook his head at Tommy. "Don't park it there, big guy. Shakes and I have a score to settle." He grinned a wide toothy grin.

"I think I'll get something to drink first," David shot back.

Gabrielle stepped out into the middle of the room, hugging the heavy jacket to her. Her eyes passed over several of the 'motorcycles' some obviously in various states of disrepair. Her eyes fell on another of them, larger than the one she had arrived on. She caught her breath in surprise.

It was a gleaming thing of deep blue and white, accented with chrome, beautiful to behold, but that was not what had caught her attention. Hanging from a small trunk at the back of the thing was a sword hilt. It shone a dull gray against the silver. She saw the other end of the black leather scabbard protruding from the rear of the trunk, just behind it.

"_Seek the Valkyrie. It carries the Sword of the Dispossessed One."_

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the machine.

"What?" David asked again, then he looked where she indicated. "Oh that. That's mine. Come on."

Gabrielle looked at David as he stepped away heading for a set of wooden stairs.

"Do you know the Valkyrie?" Gabrielle asked with a sudden earnest.

David and Tommy both turned to stare at her.

Though Tommy didn't speak her language, he recognized the word "Valkyrie."

Tommy looked at David, his eyebrows rose questioningly.

"I don't know _The _Valkyrie," David offered. "But I know of _a_ Valkyrie."

"You do?" Gabrielle was getting excited by this.

Tommy said a few words to David and then shambled up the steps. They creaked under his immense weight. He vanished through the door.

"Which Valkyrie do you know?" Gabrielle asked quickly, her eyes gleaming with nervous energy.

David gestured to the big machine. "You're looking at it." He offered. "It's called a Valkyrie."

Gabrielle looked at the machine again, then back at David, then at the machine again.

"Hey," David said gently. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something? What's up?"

Gabrielle's heart was pounding in her chest. She stepped over to the massive blue motorcycle and let her hand fall gently on the hand grip.

David watched her, his entire face a question.

Gabrielle tried to calm her heart. She looked up at him.

"Where are your parents?" she asked suddenly.

She saw the reaction in his face. A sudden twinge of pain that was there and then gone just as quickly.

"You're getting a bit personal all of a sudden," he said. He saw the nearly desperate pleading in her fiery green eyes and sighed. "If you must know, they're both dead. They died a long time ago."

Gabrielle's hand rose to her mouth in shock. "You're the one," she gasped.

"The one?" David asked, suddenly becoming nervous in his own right. "The one what? What are you, some kind of nut?"

"I know this is going to sound strange," Gabrielle said. "But I think I was told you would be here when I arrived."

"Lady," David said, his mood beginning to darken. "Finding you on the side of the road was strange. Everything you've said since I met you has been strange. Now you're going to tell me that I'm someone special because my parents died and I have a bike called a Valkyrie? I don't know where your information comes from, but I suggest trying to get a refund." He turned and began to climb up towards the door. After a few steps, he paused.

"Come on up and get something to eat," he said without looking back. "There's a spare room for you to sleep, if you like. You can be on your way tomorrow." He looked past her at Dusty, who was organizing his gear. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"I'll be waiting," Dusty grinned.

He finished the climb and vanished.

Gabrielle turned back to face the big motorcycle and stared at it. Her mind was still trying to absorb everything she had experienced in this past hour.

She was suddenly aware of a presence behind her. She turned and sighed in resignation, or perhaps disappointment.

Leaning against a gray metallic bench, his thumbs twiddling absently, wearing his characteristic black leather and wry smile, was Ares.

"My," he said in a sarcastic tone. "Things are going just perfect, aren't they?"

Gabrielle looked over at Dusty, seemingly frozen where he stood, his eyes unblinking, his hands stopped in mid motion as he unfolded a large coat. It was as if time itself had stopped. She folded her arms and returned his amused look with a contemptuous one of her own.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Ares pushed himself from the bench and strode over, his fingers every now and again brushing over one of the parked machines. He seemed to be considering them.

"Despite what you might have thought about the Twilight, some of us are still around," he said. "Oh, sure, we aren't as busy as we used to be. Humanity has done a bit of growing up over the last two thousand years." He stopped and spread his arms out in a gesture of welcome. "But one thing these humans can still do is create a good war. And where there's a war, there's me."

"Swell," Gabrielle muttered.

"Oh, I know you're happy to see me," Ares said, his hand caressing her cheek. "At least on the inside."

Gabrielle lifted her face away, and stared defiantly into his dark eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Whether you believe it or not," Ares smiled. "I'm actually here to help you."

"Oh, that's a new one," Gabrielle shot back. "What's the price?"

Ares looked honestly hurt by that statement. "Gabrielle," he cooed. "That hurts. While I may have, on occasion, asked for something in return for my aid, I really only did it because it was in your best interest."

"On occasion?" Gabrielle repeated. "Best interest?"

Ares merely shrugged and smiled that interminable smile.

"Can we get to a point at some time?" Gabrielle asked, hoping to be rid of him as quickly as possible.

"Okay," Ares sighed and settled down on the Valkyrie. He drew out the sword and studied its weather beaten blade critically before sliding it back into its place.

"You've been sent here to reclaim the Chronos Stone and return it to your time where it will cause no further mischief." He explained. "Nice job handling the Stygian Witches by the way. Shows a lot of potential."

Gabrielle fixed him with a dark look.

Ares held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He was clearly enjoying having the floor. "What you may not know is that someone else is also here, looking for the stone."

"Alti?" Gabrielle said.

"Alti," Ares replied with a nod. "Now, while I admire her thirst for power and conquest, let me just say that she doesn't really fit the mold for what I had in mind as a world leader. You need to get the stone before Alti's current incarnation does. If she gets it first, the current incarnation and the spirit of Alti from the past could come together into one body. Let's just say, that it would be a bad thing."

He rose from the motorcycle and stood before her again, looking down at her with unabashed desire.

"Now," he said. "I can't interfere directly, but I can help you along. First, by helping fix this little language barrier, and filling in a few historical points. After that, you're pretty much going to be on your own."

"And now we get to the part where you tell me what you want in return, right?" Gabrielle retorted.

Ares stepped away, as if considering, his thumb and forefinger stroking his goatee thoughtfully.

"Right now," Ares said. "I don't want anything. But I might need something earlier." He looked at her with a mischievous grin.

"Earlier?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yeah, when you get back to your time."

"And what would that be?"

Ares smiled and came back towards her. "We can discuss the finer points later. In the mean time," he raised his hand and pointed at her. "We'll just call this a little down payment." A soft reddish tendril of energy stretched from his hand and flowed over Gabrielle. She felt the energy tingle in her mind and body. When it ended, she breathed in sharply.

Ares looked at her and chuckled. "Have fun." He held his thumb and forefinger up, waggling it next to his ear. "Call me if you need anything."

There was a soft puff of smoke and he was gone.

Gabrielle let a sigh of relief flow from her as she began to take another look about.

"Hey," Dusty said. "you alright?"

"I'm fine," She replied automatically. Suddenly, she realized something extraordinary.

She stepped up to the Valkyrie and realized she could read the silver plate on the side of the bike. She looked around at the others. Names, like Harley Davidson, Yamaha, Suzuki, Kawasaki, Honda. Signs hanging on the walls read. Zombie Squad HQ, Snap-On, Craftsman, Vance and Hines.

She began flipping through several books on a shelf. They were all manuals of some kind. She didn't understand the concepts, but she could read the words. She had understood Dusty when he had spoken to her!

She let the heavy coat fall from her shoulders and looked at the back again. There was the dark knight, and the small painted scroll. She grinned in excitement as she read the words.

"I know no beast that has but some touch of pity, yet I have none, and therefore am no beast."

_Macbeth._

A short laugh escaped her lips. She folded the jacket over one arm and stared up at the closed door at the top of the stairs. Her sudden levity was replaced by anxiety.

Well, there was nothing to do but go up and try once again to speak with him.

Tentatively she mounted the steps. She paused when she heard voices on the other side, some laughing, others in hushed conversation. Taking a deep breath, and bracing herself for the unknown, she turned the knob and swung the door open.

At one time, all eight of the occupants in the room ceased their various activities and looked over at her.

The room was large and comfortably furnished, with a long row of padded chairs wrapping around a table in one corner. Several smaller tables and chairs were scattered about the open floor. A large, green table rested further back and two more sofas's sat opposite a second small table, just in front of a functional hearth.

The main feature of the room was a long bar, dominating the right wall. One large mirror covered the central mass of the back wall, flanked on either side by dark wooden shelves stocked with bottles of various sizes, shapes and colors. Strange music floated through the air and smoke wafted through the room from various smoking implements in the hands of some of the occupants.

Two men stood at the green table, holding long sticks. One of them was bent over the table, getting ready to strike a small white ceramic ball when she entered. His long brown hair draped over the stick as he turned his pale eyes on her. His companion was the dark haired Native American. His gray eyes also fixed on her intently.

Two more men sat at a small table, staring at her, obviously pausing in the middle of some conversation, while the remaining four were at the bar. David stood behind it, while Tommy and two others sat on stools.

David handed Tommy a brown bottle and wiped his hands, a smile fading from his lips when she entered.

Ignoring the sudden silence from everyone but a strange box in the nearby corner, she strode over and laid the coat on the bar.

"I think we should start over," Gabrielle said to David. She was mildly surprised when none of the men in the room reacted to her speaking in their language. Another tidbit from Ares, perhaps? She took it as a small blessing and looked down at the next empty stool.

"May I?" she asked. David nodded and gestured for her to sit. Then he turned and adjusted a knob on the wall. The strange music faded slightly in volume.

"Thirsty?" he asked.

Gabrielle looked at the bottle in Tommy's meaty hand.

"I'll have one of those," she replied.

David reached down and produced an identical bottle. She read the large silver letters, 'MGD' and smiled in spite of herself. Then she took a drink.

It was instantly apparent to the four men that the beverage was not to her liking. She winced and tried to force a pleasant expression, but to no avail.

"Perhaps you'd like something else?" Tommy offered.

"No, thanks," Gabrielle lied. "This is fine."

"Oookay," David turned back to the shelves behind him and drew down a different bottle, pouring a thick amber liquid into a short glass of ice. Then he leaned down on the bar, took a sip and gestured to the others.

"You already met Tommy," he introduced her. "The fine man beside him that pulled a gun on you tonight is Derek."

She nodded to the olive skinned man, not sure what a 'gun' was.

"And next is Jeff," David continued.

Jeff was a man of medium build and height with a handsome, if somewhat cherubic face. He smiled and raised a bottle in greeting.

"Guys," David finished. "This is Gabrielle. She was about to tell us what the hell she was doing in the middle of a deserted road at eleven thirty at night?" He looked at her expectantly.

"Yes," Gabrielle started, suddenly at a loss for words under David's inquisitive stare. "It's, uh, complicated."

When she looked up at David, she saw Ares' reflection in the mirror. He was obviously enjoying her discomfort. She started for just a moment, but composed herself quickly. At the same time, she noted that David's eyes flicked to one side, in Ares direction, and he momentarily went stiff. He also recovered quickly.

He turned with the bottle in his hand, ostensibly to put the bottle back, but his head paused, staring at Ares in the mirror before he finished his task.

"So," he asked. "Did someone ditch you out there, or something?"

"Uh," Gabrielle stammered uncomfortably. Her eyes looked quickly up at Ares again. He was rolling one hand forward, indicating that she should say something. "Something like that, yeah."

Tommy's gaze showed that he wasn't convinced.

"I've just had a really bad night," Gabrielle finished suddenly and choked down another swallow of the drink.

"It looks like someone tagged you," Tommy said, and he pointed to the spot above his left ear. Gabrielle instinctively put her hand to the bump on her head. "Got yourself walloped?" he finished.

Ares laughed silently from within the mirror and faded away.

"You could say that," Gabrielle answered. She knew she should say something, but she wasn't sure what she could say. She needed to speak with David alone. At least one on one she could open up a little bit more about what she was doing there. She doubted that any of them would believe her as a group. One unconvinced person would be enough to persuade the rest into thinking she was mentally ill.

She sighed and let her fingers wrap around the cool glass.

"Look," David said suddenly. His eyes glanced at her knowingly. "She obviously doesn't want to talk, so let's just leave it for now."

"Well," Derek said suddenly. "I wanna know why she threw down on us out there when we showed up?"

"Derek," David said. "Give it a rest for now. I'm sure she'll explain herself when she's good and ready."

The men beside her grumbled a bit but let the subject drop.

"So," Gabrielle fumbled to change the conversation. "Why don't you tell me who you are and what this place is all about?" She forced a smile in spite of a sudden weariness.

She remembered very little of the conversation from that point. She learned that this was something called a clubhouse, and it belonged to David, though it was open to everyone in the Zombie Squad. It was a place for them to gather whenever they wished. The Zombie Squad was a group of friends, all who rode motorcycles. The proper term was club, though they were more like a loose knit family than an organization. The motorcycles and other vehicles in the large garage below were the property of members. They stored the vehicles there during the winter months. It also doubled as a repair shop if one of the motorcycles, or 'bikes' as they referred to them, would break down.

After several hours of conversation, and more alcohol, the men in the place began to loosen up and relax. All except for Tommy and David, who watched everything with a keen eye.

Finally, the members of the Zombie Squad began filtering out, heading for their respective homes until only Tommy and David were left with a yawning Gabrielle.

David smiled understandingly. A quick glance and a nod from Tommy and David shrugged.

"I think you've had enough for one night," David offered. "Come on, I'll show you the guest room."

The door leading downstairs opened and Dusty stood there, wearing a thick white coat that covered his body from neck to waist. His hands were covered by a pair of sturdy gloves. "Yo! Shakes!" he blurted. "What's up?"

David held his hands up in honest apology. "Sorry man, I'll be right there! I promise!"

He led her to the opposite end of the room and down a short hall with three doors set in the wall. He opened the first one and hit the light switch. Instantly a small lamp next to a comfortable bed, lit up the room.

The space was simply furnished. A bed, night table, and short dresser stood in the tiny room.

On the wall was a picture of a silver gray motorcycle set against a backdrop of hundreds of multicolored lights forming a cityscape. A curtained window was on the opposite wall.

"It's not much, but you can sleep here." He pointed down the hall to another closed door. "Bathroom's right there."

He stepped back to the door. "Let me know if you need anything," he finished and he closed the door behind him.

TBC

13


	3. Altered States

**Altered States**

The office lighting was dark, just the way she preferred it. The subdued lighting made it easier to subdue the consciousness of the person she inhabited. The only illumination was the feeble desk lamp. Its weak yellow glow barely covered the large desk surface.

Professor Bernadette Klause flipped through the latest batch of seismic surveys. They showed the rough outline of the outer walls of a small, fortified village. Fainter lines indicated small buildings beyond the outer wall. She smiled coldly as she studied the information, then she sat back and sighed. It was so liberating to be back in the real world, even one so far removed from hers. Time had passed; man had grown up, but it was still like a mass of sheep waiting for the slaughter.

There was a tremor of consciousness from the mind of the person she inhabited. She settled it easily and grimaced in mild disgust. Her latest incarnation had been a sniveling, weak minded, bleeding heart idiot. The woman known as Dr. Bernadette Klause was a mere glimmer of the power that she had possessed in the past. She grimaced at the thought of being so weak. Her introspection was interrupted by a soft knock on the office door.

"Yes?" she replied softly, still not used to the voice that emanated from her lips. She settled back and folded her hands under her chin.

The shadowy form of a man glided into the room. He was lean and slender with pale blond hair close cut on his pale head. In his thin fingers he held a small bundle of cloth.

"Ah, Mister Finch" Bernadette said calmly with a catlike grin. "You have it."

"Yes, madam," the man replied with a clear baritone voice. He fixed her with a gaze that was better suited to a reptile. "The dig team was quite excited when they discovered the tomb. The village itself was only recently discovered. No one suspected the family tomb would be where you indicated," he smiled. "Or rather, where _I_ indicated."

"That's the beauty of it," Bernadette said. "How would anyone know about it?"

"Yes, Bernadette," Mr. Finch repeated with an unnatural politeness that would have sent a shiver up anyone else's spine. He handed the small bundle over to his employer and stepped over to the small bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon. "The thing I find interesting is that _you_ knew where it was?"

Bernadette merely smiled a knowing smile so cold that only a like minded creature could gaze upon it unaffected or with appreciation. Mr. Finch was such a man.

He merely shrugged and seated himself with a flourish and gently shook the glass of alcohol, listening to the melodic tinkle of the ice against the glass. He watched his employer open the package with reptilian detachment.

The figure that was, in appearance, Doctor Bernadette Klause, gently unfolded the ancient oil cloth and exposed a beautifully crafted crystal medallion on a fine silver chain. It was shaped like a four pointed star. The points were each formed by a single, polished, clear crystal surrounding a simple, pale green one in the center. The whole was surrounded by intricate silver framework, covered with tiny, detailed letters.

Doctor Klause smiled greedily as she studied the artifact.

"So, Bernadette," Mr. Finch asked, leaning over to get a closer look. "What is this worth?"

Bernadette's dark eyes flashed up at him with such barely restrained animalistic hunger that even he sat back in surprise. Instead of retaliating as his conscience desired, he merely sat back and smiled coldly. His left hand fingered the closed straight razor in his coat pocket. "Not yet," he thought to himself. "Not just yet."

The good Doctor was out of her seat and hovering over a nearby globe that rested in an antique stand. She held the amulet up to the globe over the city of Athens, her present location.

"Now," she hissed in anticipation. "Show me where it will be."

The central crystal began to pulse faintly, as did the left most triangular piece, like an indicator.

Doctor Klause smiled eagerly as she slid the object in the direction the crystal indicated, crossing the Atlantic Ocean into America. The central crystals' glow intensified as it traveled and the Doctor's eyes lit up, demonic in its pale green glow.

Mr. Finch merely sat back patiently, waiting for his employer to complete her task.

When she finally did, she turned and grinned triumphantly.

"It will be somewhere in the vicinity of Chicago," she announced.

"That's wonderful, Bernadette," he said with complete neutrality. "Perhaps you would care to explain to me just what will be in the vicinity of Chicago?"

Bernadette simply settled back into the overstuffed chair behind her desk and stared at Mr. Finch intently.

"Not plotting anything untoward, are you?" she asked in a voice that sounded more like a tea kettle boiling over.

Mr. Finch merely smiled and settled back in his chair, sipping the bourbon and studying Bernadette with even, unreadable eyes.

"It is refreshing to know that a newcomer with a certain flair can suddenly burst into the business with such flourish and skill, and still not be taken unawares by the people she employs." He said in a kindly tone. A tone that might have appealed to a crocodile.

"I know "that despite the money I pay, you wouldn't hesitate to kill me if you thought it would benefit you."" Bernadette said evenly, her eyes locking on his with unnatural intensity. She tossed a thick envelope into his lap and smiled.

Mr. Finch smiled and opened the envelope, his thumb slowly moving the bills from side to side as he did a quick count.

Doctor Klause rose and stepped around the desk, seating herself against the edge, in front of the killer. She looked small and weak in the soft nightgown and robe she wore.

Mr. Finch, still smiling that reptilian smile, looked down at the envelope.

In a flash, the Doctor had him by the hair on top his head, yanking his face up and back.

Mr. Finch let the envelope fall as he reached into his coat pocket and drew out the razor. She intercepted the hand and disarmed him. He felt the cold steel against his own throat.

Bernadette's face was inches from his, and her eyes glared, bloodshot and rimmed in red, like a possessed being. Her leering grin was savage and bestial as she hissed in his ear.

"I know," she whispered. "That given the chance, you would have tried to kill me tonight, Mr. Finch. I know, despite your infernal courtesy, you have no sense of honor, and I know that you could never hope to defeat me, though you are just stupid enough to try."

She released her hold on his head and settled back against the desk, her finger testing the sharp edge of the blade thoughtfully. She folded it back into its handle and looked at Mr. Finch, seeing fear in his pale eyes for the first time. She smiled again, this time in a way a snake might seduce another of its own kind. She tossed the weapon into Mr. Finch's lap and turned away.

"Take your money and get out," she said coldly. "We need to create a reason for the good Doctor to travel to America." She leaned over the desk and grinned.

"I believe that Frank Weldon, a former colleague, lives in Chicago. I understand that the cities can be quite violent." She folded herself back into the seat like a snake coiling to strike. "Take two men with you and arrange an accident for the good man. That should motivate my alter ego into leaving the dig. I will contact you when I arrive. Do not try and contact me, understood?"

"Of course, Bernadette," Mr. Finch responded, showing that he had mastered his initial shock and fear. He stared at her for a moment, his own mind working to ascertain the level of this woman's duality and insanity. In the end, he merely accepted that her money was just as valuable as anyone else's. In the end, that was what really counted.

He could bide his time for a while and wait for the opportune moment. Whatever the little trinket was, it was merely a tool for something greater. To him, that translated into something more profitable. Profit was the only thing he was interested in. This newcomer with all that money could continue to pay him for his services until he knew everything he needed. She was ruthless, cold, calculating, but inexperienced in the ways of business.

Let her feel superior for the moment, and then squash her like the insect she was.

Mr. Finch smiled and rose, draining his glass in one long gulp. He set the empty container on the bar and gave the Doctor a polite nod.

"Good night, Bernadette," he said kindly. "Pleasant dreams." He backed out of the office, closing the door silently behind him.

Professor Bernadette Klause sat in silence for a long moment until she heard the sound of Finch's car crunching down the gravel drive and off the complex grounds. Then she simply laid her head back and closed her eyes.

A few moments later, Professor Klause's eyes fluttered open again and she breathed sharply in surprise. She looked around at her darkened office with a slight air of fear as she felt the shadows in the room close in about her.

"God," she breathed. "Not again."

She rose from the seat and stepped gingerly over to the light switch. The glaring yellow light blinded her for a moment as it flooded the room and chased the shadows away from her surroundings, if not from her mind.

Her eyes traveled the room, taking it all in before she began to cross back to her desk. A glint off to the side caught her attention and she paused.

A frown crossed her face as she noted the empty glass on the bar, the ice cubes still resting in the bottom.

"That's strange," she commented to herself. She took up the glass and sniffed cautiously, wincing at the odor of the bourbon. Then she frowned again in concern. No one she knew drank that stuff.

She went back to her desk and ran through a quick inventory of her information. The contents of the latest seismic survey lay there, spread out across the desk instead of neatly filed in the manila folder beneath them. There was also an ancient piece of oil cloth resting on her desk that she knew had not been there before she had left work earlier that evening. Someone had obviously been going through her things, but usually a thief would have taken something, not left it? She unfolded the cloth and stared in wonder at the contents. A beautifully wrought four pointed star medallion of clear and green crystal covered by engraved writing of a language she could not immediately identify.

She held it up to the light.

"Where on earth did you come from?" she asked it, half expecting an answer. The concern for the security of her latest archeological dig was slowly being overcome by her insatiable curiosity. In the end she concluded that she had sleep walked from her small apartment on the other side of the university to her office. It hadn't been the first time she had done this. There had been several digs in the past where her drive for answers had caused this type of behavior. Still, none of her walking dreams had ever yielded an artifact before, especially not one in her own office. As she stared at the green central crystal, an image flashed before her eyes. The face of a young woman, with short blonde hair and fierce emerald eyes. The image struck her with such force and surprise that she nearly dropped the amulet. She set the thing back down on the desk, re-wrapped it in the cloth and then tucked the bundle safely away in the locked drawer.

Whatever the artifact was, it certainly wasn't classical period. Perhaps Minoan or Sumarian, but not from the era of the Poditia dig site. A colleague must have brought it by to ask her to identify it. It wasn't unusual for Professors of one site to ask advice of another, and the act of dropping off unknown artifacts to a colleague had been something of a private joke for many of them. A test to make certain that each of them was on their toes, so to speak.

She smiled wearily, sat back down and removed the surveys of the Poditia dig site for another inspection. She discovered, at the bottom of the stack of papers and images, a large area satellite image that showed the outline of the current dig site, with the small blue tents of the team and the various pits dug in the surface of the lush green field. Then gazing at the image, she noted a small black X in permanent marker, drawn in a place about a mile from the site, at the base of a small, rocky hill. Again she frowned. She hadn't requested anything for that area. She checked the grid reference and confirmed that nothing had been scheduled for that site. As far as she knew, all the manpower and equipment was focused on the excavation of the village wall foundations and interior buildings.

Perhaps it was a site that she had planned on exploring at a later date? Her mind felt like clay and the weariness seemed to wash over her afresh. She slid the papers back together and filed the information back in her desk.

As she prepared to leave, a blank expression suddenly washed over her face and she quickly dipped her hand back in the drawer of the desk and removed the oil cloth package, slipping it into the pocket of her robe. Then she switched off the lights and departed.

The cool, humid night air seemed to lull her into a deeper state of weariness as she crossed the courtyard to her apartment when, suddenly, the image of the blonde haired girl flashed before her again. She wore a costume of deep red animal skins, adorned with beads that seemed to refer to the Amazon tribes of the region. In her hands she held two weapons not of Greco-Roman origin, but of Japanese. Two sais, which she seemed to wield with superior skill.

The image flashed out as the young woman seemed to leap right at her. She paused in her walking and breathed deeply of the cool scented night air.

Once in her apartment, she looked in the mirror above her small wash basin and studied the lines on her face. She looked tired and worn out. Though she was barely thirty-seven, she appeared to be older. It was as if her life's work were slowly sapping her of her vitality.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked the reflection. Then she dipped her hand into the cool water in the basin and splashed it on her face. When she looked up again, she almost screamed. In the mirror was her own reflection, but not her own. The same face, though seeming younger and more vibrant, stared back at her with deep, somewhat wild, dark eyes. Her face was framed by the skull and skins of a deer or elk, cut into a headdress, and her body was covered in the skins and bones of the same animal, some areas still red with the color of old blood.

"My God," Bernadette gasped.

"Please!" The image spoke back to her, smiling with undisguised contempt. "You repulse me! So weak, so full of ambition, but no direction! You've seen the one who threatens us, and yet you stand there fawning! Pull yourself together, damn you!"

"You," Bernadette said. "Who are you?"

"I?" the image replied and she chuckled with such an evil sound that Bernadette felt her skin crawl. "I am you! I am the greater part of you! The part that your soul is hungry for! I am the heart of the power you seek!"

"What power?" Bernadette asked. She feared that she might be going mad. "Who are you?"

"I am Alti," the image announced. "I am the original incarnation of you, more's the pity!"

The image scoffed in contempt. "Look how far we've fallen! Two thousand years to grow and perfect our craft, and what do you do? Dig in the dirt with worms! Two thousand years ago, you could call spirits from of the dead to serve you! You could hold the powers of the universe in the palm of your hand! Now you hold only a spade or quill. You drew energy from the earth, now you draw up pebbles and trinkets!"

"What are you doing here?" Bernadette asked, a lump of cold horror forming in her throat.

Alti smiled. "I am coming back to life," she said. "I had hoped to do this slowly and subtlely, but our combined enemy is here now, and she is too great a threat to go unchallenged! I must have your body, now!"

"NO!" Bernadette cried in horror, but then a fire raged through her brain, shoving her consciousness deep into the recesses of her mind. She felt her will slipping into a deep, endless void. She tried to scream, but she no longer had a voice.

In the mirror, the image of the frightened professor was replaced by the calculating, cold image of the ancient shamaness. The lines of stress and worry that had been on her face smoothed over and were replaced with the cunning look of a stalking cat.

"Gabrielle," Alti muttered. "You're like an insect that won't die!" She stepped away from the basin, knocking it to the floor with a crash and strode through the apartment.

Once she had found suitable garments, she picked up a cell phone and, ransacking the lamented Professors mind, gleaned the information she needed to use it. She tapped the small buttons and held the phone to her ear.

"Good evening?" a soft flowing voice responded at the other end.

"Finch!" Alti barked. "Change of plans! Get your men and meet me back here in one hour! We leave for America tonight!"

"Will we still be traveling to Chicago?" the educated voice cooed.

"Yes!" Alti barked. "One hour!"

She snapped the phone closed and slipped it into her jacket pocket. In the back of her mind, the Professor struggled to regain control for a moment.

"Sit down and be silent!" Alti growled, easily forcing the submissive mind back. "Pathetic," she finished and she began packing a small travel bag with her basic necessities.

Gabrielle slept fitfully for about an hour and then she sat upright in the small bed. Somewhere below her, she could hear the sounds of fighting and the clashing of steel.

She got up and grabbed her sais, moving quickly across the deserted main room to the door that led down into the "shop".

As she peered through the door, she witnessed two figures standing opposite each other, in ready stances, each holding a long, narrow bladed sword.

"Ready?" she heard David say.

The other, dressed in white, nodded and the two closed in a series of lightning quick moves.

"Atcha!" David's voice called and they parted. He tapped the upper left side of his chest and pointed at his opponent. "Got me. Good one, man."

"So," Dusty asked as he went back to his starting point, "what do you think of our house guest?"

David shrugged. "Don't know enough yet. I think someone kicked her out of a car, or something? No one in their right minds would be out there, in the cold, dressed like that."

They stepped apart, dropped into a ready stance again and charged.

"Ah shit!" Dusty's voice emanated from the opaque mask. The tip of David's blade had smacked loudly on the top of his face plate. "It's that damn gorilla reach of yours!"

"She seems friendly enough," David continued as they reset again. "Why? What's your impression?"

Where Dusty's equipment was more utilitarian, long sleeved white fencing jacket with white gloves and mask, David's was more stylized. He wore a loose fitting green shirt beneath a simple black chest protector and black opaque mask. The gloves on his hands were also black, trimmed in a green that matched his shirt.

The two of them closed again and each scored a hit. Laughing, they returned to the end of the strip and squared up again.

Gabrielle forced the adrenaline down and watched, quietly sliding her sais back into her boots. Her ears perked up at the subject of conversation.

"So?" David asked again as he crouched down, readying for the next exchange. "What are your impressions?"

"Ah man," Dusty replied. "You know me? My first impressions are always based on physical appearance. So, I think she's hot."

"Hot, huh?" David replied, smiling behind his mask. "That's pretty shallow, even for you."

"But honest," Dusty replied, and he charged in again. The blades crashed and then Dusty ducked low and whipped his weapon around, across David's chest.

David spun away from the hit, his left hand rising to his bruised side.

"Wow!" he cried in surprise. "That's gonna leave a mark!"

Dusty laughed fiercely. "Smoke that!" he challenged.

He strode back towards his end of the strip. "So, you don't think she's hot?" he asked.

David laughed. "That's not the point."

Gabrielle smiled at the evasion, her attention fixed on the two men below.

David spun his weapon in a flourish as he reset and then he dropped back into his guarded stance. He tapped the point of the blade on the ground, his left hand back behind him.

"So," Dusty teased him. "You do think she's hot."

"You know," David sighed. "I keep forgetting how much of a hound dog you are."

"Paid up, card carrying," Dusty replied cheerily. "So, hot or not?"

David sighed. "Fine. Yes, I think she's very attractive. Ready?"

Dusty also tapped his blade and nodded. "Bring it on, big guy!"

The two closed with reckless fury. Their blades clashed and struck back and forth, clanging in the large chamber for what seemed a long few seconds, then Dusty launched himself through the air and stabbed downward. There was a sound of tearing cloth and David recoiled with a frustrated cry.

Gabrielle almost cried out in alarm. Unlike David, she had seen where the point of the blade had gone.

He pulled the mask off and looked at his opponent with an incredulous smile. Sweat was streaming down his face. His long dark hair was tied back in a tail that fell down between his shoulders.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, laughing. "A kangaroo on acid?"

Dusty also removed his mask, his face shining with perspiration. He was grinning broadly. "It worked, didn't it?"

David grinned and went to replace his mask, moving his right arm experimentally.

"Uh, you might want to check that?" Dusty offered. He pointed with his weapon, indicating David's right arm.

Confused, David looked down and saw the small, spreading dark stain on his upper arm. Then he saw the hole in the fabric of his shirt.

"Ah man," he moaned. "This is my favorite fencing shirt!"

"What about the arm?" Dusty asked in concern. "You're bleeding?"

David lifted the torn flap and inspected the small cut. He shrugged. "It's nothing." He grinned mischievously. "But your ass is mine now!" He reset the helmet on his head and dropped into ready. "On guard!"

Dusty sighed with resignation. "This is going to be a long night. What's the score?"

He also replaced his helmet and got ready.

David pointed at Dusty and then at himself. "Ten to eight."

Dusty raised his weapon. "All right. Let's do it!"

Understanding it to be a competition, Gabrielle quietly edged out to the first step and sat down to watch. It was like watching a fast, precise dance. The exchanges lasted mere seconds before one of them or the other scored a point. The blades flashed, the feet would shuffle and then someone raised a hand and pointed, indicating where they had been struck.

On one exchange, David leapt straight in, mimicking Dusty's suicidal maneuver of a few rounds before. In this case, he brought the weapon whistling down, striking the collarbone with an audible whack.

Dusty recoiled with a cry of pain.

"What was that for?" he asked, rubbing his neck.

"That was for the arm," David replied, grinning behind his mask. "And the shirt."

Grumbling, Dusty reset himself and got ready for the next exchange.

When the score tied at fourteen, the two of them removed their helmets and stood erect, facing each other.

"La belle," David said. He raised his weapon in salute. Dusty repeated the gesture, and then the two of them replaced their masks and settled back down.

"So?" Dusty asked as he readied himself. "You gonna make a move, or not?"

"Make a move?" David replied, adjusting his mask and dropping into ready. "Christ man, we just met the girl! We don't know anything about her!"

He raised his weapon to ready.

"Make a move?" Gabrielle frowned. Then she smiled. Here were two men, engaged in combat and discussing whether or not they should approach her, after only one night? She had been in enough inns and taverns to understand the context of those questions. She shook her head and smiled again. Then she focused back on the match below.

"Good luck," David offered.

Dusty nodded and raised his weapon. "Ready?"

Gabrielle held her breath, though she didn't understand why.

Suddenly, Dusty stepped quickly in, while David launched himself forward with a cry. The blades clashed and then David was past him, his weapon smacking loudly on Dusty's head. At the same moment, Dusty stabbed upward.

David landed and turned tapping his chest and pointing at his friend. Simultaneously, Dusty turned and patted his mask before pointing at David. The two of them laughed aloud.

"Gods, that was fast," Gabrielle whispered quietly.

"Alright," David said with a cocky air. "Alright!" He went back to his starting point and dropped into on guard. "I'll get you this time."

Dusty grinned behind his mask.

"You'll try, Bullwinkle," he challenged. The two of them reset.

"Ready?"

Gabrielle held her breath again.

Again, they closed and struck, and again they both hit at the same time.

Gabrielle let out a squeal of excitement in spite of herself.

Both of them removed their masks and looked up at her in surprise.

Gabrielle shrugged. "Sorry. I was just watching."

Both of them smiled and looked at each other.

"Think she heard us?" Dusty asked quietly.

David smiled. "Every word."

"Still La belle?" Dusty continued.

David smiled and nodded as he went back to his starting point. "Yeah, we both died on that one, too."

Dusty saluted David again and smiled. "I think you just want a chance to impress the House Mouse?"

"Dream on, buddy," David countered with a laugh. "Ready?"

The two of them charged again.

David tossed in his sleep, his mind wandering in an ancient field, somewhere he did not recognize. His eyes beheld the ancient trees, white with age and weathering. Not a single leaf lived upon them. Even the grasses beneath his feet seemed only a mockery of life. He stood in a small clearing, looking about him at the trees. On the ground about him was a series of small stone arrangements, signifying grave sites. And about him hung the decomposed bodies of several other people, most of them rotted away to mere bones, trussed together by the tattered remains of ligaments or old clothing.

"This is not where I was hoping to go," David said as he tried to focus his dream in another direction. It had become an art that he was quite proficient at. On this particular night, however, someone else was leading his dream walk.

He glanced down at his body, clothed in a simple black coat with blue jeans, boots, and a black hooded sweatshirt beneath his leather vest. His hands were covered in fingerless gloves, and he saw his bowie knife strapped to his right hip.

"All dressed up and no one to date," he smiled ruefully. Then he looked about him at the ancient carnage again, knowing without reason that this had been a real place. "All right then," he muttered. Then he stood up straight and stretched out his arms to either side, hands open in a gesture of welcome.

"Who has brought me here?" he called in a clear voice. The words echoed about him, bouncing through the dead trees into infinity.

Suddenly a small pile of wood burst into a merrily crackling camp fire.

The sound of slow deliberate clapping could be heard behind him. He turned and beheld a tall man with thick black hair and narrow goatee. He was tan and powerfully built, wearing a black vest, pants, boots and a pair of inlaid black bracers, covered in silver.

"That's new," the man said easily as he smiled. "Most people get nervous when their dreams don't go the way they want. You seemed to welcome it?"

"Not the first time I've been yanked off my usual dream walk," David responded coolly. He took one step back, wary of this apparition. "Who are you?"

"Yeah," the man said. "Introductions first. Been a while since I've had a mortal to talk to. Most of you don't even recognize me anymore." He held his hands out and gave a courteous bow that would have seemed genuine if not for the barely concealed wry smile on his lips. "Ares, God of War, at your service."

"Ares?" David replied, a smile touching his lips. "The Ares? That's rich. Okay, I'll bite. What is an abandoned God of War doing calling me from my dream walk?"

Ares gaze momentarily went dark, and then he smiled suddenly and chuckled. "That's what I love about you modern humans. You're so full of yourselves that you don't even fear a God anymore. So brave and yet so stupid." He shook his head. "You obviously have no idea who you're dealing with."

"No," David nodded. "Actually, I have a real good idea. I also know that you didn't just walk in and take over my Dream Walk. You were allowed."

"Allowed?" Ares laughed. "What makes you think I need permission to do this? Man, are you arrogant! You're worse than my late half brother!"

"The truth is seldom gentle," David said evenly. "I'm assuming that you had a point to make, right?"

Again, Ares stared at David with a dark look, hoping to intimidate him. When it became apparent that this would not happen, he shrugged and smiled again.

"Okay," he said. "You've recently met a young, very attractive, very irritating little blonde girl named Gabrielle. I guess I can assume you've noticed a few things odd about her?"

"A few," David conceded. "That point you were going to make?"

"She's going to want to talk to you in the morning," Ares said. "Now, some of what she says – okay, all of what she says is going to be strange to you, more strange or annoying than anything she has said so far. I'm here to tell you that it's all going to be true."

"I was kind of figuring that," David said knowingly. "One thing she doesn't seem to be is full of shit."

Ares caught the hidden rebuke and this time his temper began to take hold.

"Listen you little brat," he said, pointing a finger at him. "You don't want to make me angry. I'll fry you to a crisp!"

"No you won't," David chuckled. "You couldn't if you wanted to, and we both know it."

"Really?" Ares asked, and then a blast of fire shot from his hand and exploded just before impacting into David's chest. He fired another and a third, all with the same result. David merely crossed his arms and waited, a confident smile on his lips.

Ares looked down at his hand and back up at David with a look of total perplexity.

David merely crouched down and held his hands out to the flames.

"You can't touch me here," David said. "Or anywhere, for that matter." He looked up at Ares and nodded. "My Goddess protects me here and in all things."

Ares looked as if he could skewer David with his eyes alone.

"And my Goddess has been around for a hell of a lot longer than you have. Hell, she was probably your great-great-grandmother." He shrugged. "So what about this talk that Gabrielle and I are going to have? And why were you hiding in the mirror behind the bar tonight?" David looked up at Ares knowingly.

Ares eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know I was there?"

"Hey, Retired War God," David said with a touch of injured pride. "I just look like biker trash on the outside. I've been a temple High Priest for nearly ten years now. We just aren't as open about it as we were back before the Burning Time." He seemed retrospective for a moment. "Come to think about it, you didn't do much to help us back then, did you?"

"Call it an oversight," Ares growled.

"And not knowing your opponent?" David asked. "Just another 'oversight' for the God of War? Come on, Ares, Patton never would have approved."

"Well," David continued before Ares could say anything, "let's get down to it, shall we? What do you want?" He gestured to a nearby log, offering for Ares to sit.

Ares stared at him for a moment, and then he laughed out loud, truly laughed.

"I like you!" he admitted. "You've got heart, you know that?"

He sat down on the proffered log and looked around.

"Look around," he said. "This was the work of another person a lot like you could be."

"Really?" David gazed about him. "I never got into the Vlad the Impaler thing, myself."

"I had a woman once," Ares boasted. "Her name was Xena. With a little prodding in the right direction, she accomplished this long before I was finished with her."

"You must have been proud," David muttered. "The point?"

"Okay," Ares said. "If you decide to help Gabrielle out in this upcoming endeavor, you're going to need a few things from me."

"Like?" David asked.

"Better reflexes, strength, accuracy, and brains," Ares ticked off. "I can give them to you, temporarily of course."

"Of course," David said. "Kind of like letting Gabrielle speak my language?"

Ares mouth dropped open for a moment, and then he smiled again. "Well, you don't miss much, do you?"

"Try not to," David replied easily. "Now I have a question. What will it cost me?"

Ares shrugged. "What is it with you mortals and debt?" he asked. "No one can give you anything for free? Why is that?"

David shrugged. "Ever since I started reading philosophy, I've become inherently suspicious. I especially like the passage that states, 'If something looks too good to be true, then it probably isn't true.' Your little offer sounds too good to be true, unless there are strings attached."

"That's a terribly outdated frame of mind," Ares replied as he waggled a finger at him.

David smiled sarcastically. "Well, I'm talking to an outdated God."

Ares was struck again by the sheer impudence of the man before him. In all his thousands of years, he couldn't remember anyone, besides Xena and Gabrielle, who had spoken to him so casually, so rudely. He stood up and towered over David, trying to be as menacing as he could.

"I may not be able to hurt you," he said in a growl, "but that doesn't mean I can't get to you. You have friends, loved ones, even that irritating blonde might start growing on you."

David nodded and rose, looking Ares in the eye, unflinching. "True," he agreed. "I'm sure you could mess with everyone I've ever known or will know. But, if you do, that would just prove something else."

"What's that?" Ares asked.

"That Ares, the Great God of War in the Greek Pantheon, was actually a coward at heart. He's a bully who would torment the people that can't defend themselves, because the real players were too damn good for him to measure up."

David's eyebrows rose in question. "So," he asked. "What's the truth, Ares? Are you a badass or a bitch?"

Ares' eyes were two black pits, filled with impotent wrath. His chest heaved with breath as his rage swelled within him. He knew that this one was protected by a power greater than his. The man's faith in that power only strengthened it. He turned and began to stalk away.

"Hang on a second," David called after him in a truly apologetic tone. Ares turned back to face him.

David's demeanor changed in that moment. "Okay. We're done with all the posturing and bullshit, right? Now, let's talk. What do you want from me?"

Ares looked at him darkly for a moment, and then a realization began to dawn on his face. "You were playing me?" he asked, totally astonished.

"No more than you were trying to play me," David replied with a grin. "My teacher always told me, if I wanted to know someone, I should make them angry, and that way I see the true person. I made you angry. I know now that Gabrielle wouldn't be here if something wasn't serious. I know now that she is not exactly from this neck of the woods, and that you have a vested interest in her. The rest, I'll let you fill in."

Ares stared at him and then his grin reasserted itself and he chuckled. "You're good," he said, waggling a finger at him again. "You're very, very good. Okay, let's parlay, shall we?"

Gabrielle moved slowly through the misty haze about her. In her mind, she knew she was sleeping in the small room David had provided, but that realization did little to comfort her in this place. Vague shapes could be seen at the edge of her vision. They would be there for one moment and then scoot out of sight before she could recognize them. She continued through this place for what seemed an eternity, then the mist faded away and she beheld a small valley. She was at the crest of a high rocky hill, looking down at various blue dwellings, with people moving to and fro between a large, dug out area. With a sudden wrench of her heart, she recognized it as the valley of Poditia, her home. The village was gone, reduced to a large pit in the midst of a field. The sadness of it washed over her like a cold wave.

Voices caught her attention and she gazed down to her right at a closer group of people, working in a small cave below her.

She crept stealthily down to a spot just above the opening and looked down at some of the artifacts already being removed from the place. With a shock, she saw several large rolls of ancient parchment, just like the ones she always used. She crouched lower, her hands coming to rest on the ancient stone, and seemed to feel the breathing current of life in her fingers. Suddenly, the activity began to slow until it came to a complete stop. The figures of people ceased moving. She stared at the scene in wonder and amazement as she saw everything before her frozen in a single moment. Just above her head, a small bird hovered, just shy of its tiny foot touching the branch on which it would land. A small squirrel stared up at her, seemingly lifeless, in mid panic as it prepared to scamper off, the hairs of its bushy tail rigid like wire.

Then, slowly, the figures began to move in reverse. The people and artifacts moved back to their original positions as time reversed itself.

Gabrielle knew this sensation only by repute. Autolocus, the King of Thieves had described his experience with the Chronos Stone, and she remembered it well.

Her fingers gripped a little tighter as the universe spun in reverse, faster and faster until the movement of the seasons were like small flashes of light. She had a sudden sense of falling as the world regressed back to something more familiar.

Just as inexplicably, the images and seasons began to slow back down. The months and years slowed to a gradual reverse progression of days. She witnessed activity at the mouth of the tomb again, this time it was individuals dressed more in line with the time she was familiar with. A small cluster of people emerged from the tomb bearing a litter, upon which a body rested. It did not stop moving until it was a good distance away. Then, as if the universe paused to catch its breath, the people beneath her began to move forward again.

Gabrielle watched the grim procession as it approached the tomb. She saw the bearers, four young men, strong and lithe, bearing the litter of a person who had been rather tall in stature. The thin veil covering the body obscured the details of the face, but she could see that the dead man had been an elderly one. That was some small comfort at least. The man had lived a full measure of years. Behind him came the other mourners, obviously family. Something about the way they moved sent a chill up her spine. She saw the central figure of a woman, about the same advanced age as the dead man. It wasn't the age of the woman that caught her attention. It was the way she was moving and the look in her pale green eyes. Her eyes!

Gabrielle's breath caught as she realized she was watching a funeral for someone she would know in her future. In the back of her mind, she inspected the way she looked at advanced age. She had to admit that she would age well, if this was accurate. A grim smile touched her face. Then she noted the two figures following behind the older her.

One was a man, tall and strong, in his late twenties or early thirties, with long golden hair and deep, fiery green eyes. He wore a close shaven beard and moustache that leant his features a rather roguish appearance. Gabrielle recognized the stance and bearing of that man. The other was a woman, also tall and proud, with dark brown chestnut hair and deep dark eyes. Both were dressed in simple traveling attire. Gabrielle realized with a start that she was looking at the faces of her own grown children. The resemblance between her and the dark haired young woman left little doubt, though she had obviously inherited her height from the father.

Both young people were fit and strong, each with a hand resting on the elder Gabrielle's shoulder, attempting to comfort her while at the same time dealing with their own sense of loss.

Gabrielle looked down from the place and saw the fierce attempt of her elderly counterpart to keep her emotions in check. She could imagine the last time she felt that much emotion in one moment. Her heart ached to behold the sight. Without understanding why, she rose up from concealment and moved to go down to them. The three figures looked up and their eyes went wide.

Gabrielle froze, suddenly uncertain as she saw them looking up at her, and past her.

She realized in that eerie moment, that they could not perceive her, but they did perceive something else.

Gabrielle's older counterpart slowly covered her mouth in wonder, her eyes alight. The two children behind her stood tense and amazed, the man's hand slowly traveling to his sword hilt.

Gabrielle gulped in sudden fear and slowly turned her eyes to look over her shoulder.

She discerned a large black shape, and then she was falling through a tunnel, faster and faster, as the universe vanished suddenly beneath her feet. She screamed in fear – and sat bolt upright in the small bed, covered in a sheen of cold sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps and a sob on her lips. It was the palpable memory of something that would come. The loss of yet another loved one. She huddled against the cool wall and hugged a pillow to her chest, weeping quietly.

TBC

16


	4. The Temporal Bard and Modern Lasagna

**The Temporal Bard and Modern Lasagna**

Gabrielle didn't know how long she had slept the second time around. The last thing she remembered was watching two of her strange benefactors charging at each other, armed with swords. The next, she was curled up on the bed, clutching the pillow.

She looked out the window at the fading fiery light of the setting sun and stretched. Had she slept through an entire day? Two days?

From outside she could hear the sound of many people socializing in the main hall of the place. The music was playing and she felt it reverberate in the floor beneath her feet.

She did her best to fix her appearance and opened the door. She could make out several people by the large green table and a thin haze of smoke hovered several feet above the floor. A thick tobacco scent overpowered everything in the hallway. She sniffed and sneezed quietly before walking slowly out into the open.

There was the massive bulk of Tommy sitting on a stool at the corner of the hall. He turned and looked at her in surprise.

"Well," he grinned. "Look who finally woke up." Then he turned and bellowed into another back room. "Shakespeare! The House Mouse is alive!"

Apparently, the large man had heard the impromptu nickname bestowed upon her by Dusty.

David emerged, wearing jeans, tee shirt, sneakers, and a red and white checkered apron. His long dark hair was tied into a thick tail that hung down between his shoulders. He wiped his hands on the apron and grinned.

"Hey there, Mouse. Bout time," he said. "You hungry?"

She smelled the preparations of a meal coming from the kitchen and suddenly her belly growled with hunger she hadn't even realized she felt. She nodded.

"Good," David said. "Get in here."

Confused for a moment, she hesitated.

"You know how to cook, don't you?" David asked.

She nodded. "A little. Nothing fancy."

"Alright, Nothing Fancy," he said with a grin. "Get in here, unless you'd rather be part of the cleanup crew?"

Gabrielle ducked under the bar and followed David into a large, modern kitchen.

The smells flooded her nostrils, spicy and rich, making her stomach protest even more.

On a massive stove were several steaming pots or flat pans, and an illuminated oven showed two large silver covered dishes within.

At least a dozen steaks sizzled on a broiler and David was moving from one station to the next, here flipping over a steak, and adding spices to a large boiling pot.

He gestured to a small pile of ground and partially cooked meat.

"Start by making the meatballs and dropping them in the crock pot," he ordered as he moved over to a large flat frying griddle.

Still uncertain, she stepped over and smelled the rich tangy scent of the sauce slowly bubbling in the pot before her. Again, her belly cried out in anticipation.

As it did, she watched David with growing fascination. He seemed tireless as he moved from one place to the next. The kitchen was easily large enough to support a staff of several cooks.

Gabrielle smiled as she recalled Joxer's tiny tavern. She and Xena had wandered in after their long sleep and found their old friend and his wife, bustling about like a dog with its tail on fire.

There was a sudden pang of regret as she remembered yet another friend she had lost.

She paused in her preparations for a moment.

"Look out!" David said cheerfully as he squeezed between her and a standing rack holding various cooking utensils. "Ingredients, coming through!" He held two small clear bowls in his hands, passing them over her head as he moved. Stopping at another large pot, he tossed the mixed contents of one bowl in and stirred them gently with a large wooden spoon, then he turned to a second, equally large pot and dumped the contents of the second bowl. That pot contained boiling water. He stirred that pot a few moments and then turned away, ducking beneath the hanging pans and setting them to clattering against one another. He opened a large door and withdrew a box, lined in plastic and steaming from the contact with the warm air. He spun theatrically and ducked back underneath, drawing long spindly crab legs from the box and placing them into the boiling water. Then he looked into the box and upended it over the pot. Shrimp fell in by the dozen.

"That works," he said, tossing the box into a corner and wiping his hands on his apron again. He grinned and stepped back to the first pot, stirring it carefully.

Looking back past her again, he saw the amused smile spreading on her face. He slipped behind her again, stopping at a large flat pan containing more ground meat, simmering within.

Reaching up, he took a small bottle of reddish liquid and poured copious amounts into the skillet. A large burst of brilliant orange fire leapt up from the pan with a sizzle and he grabbed the pan in one hand and shook it, expertly tossing the flaming meat around.

Gabrielle almost dove for cover when the minor explosion occurred.

"Rupee!" David shouted as he worked, as she laughed out loud.

"You're out of your mind!" She exclaimed.

David only grinned more broadly and tossed the meat until the flames died, then he spun back around and circumnavigated Gabrielle and the utensil rack, returning to the first massive pot. He spooned the meat into the pot and set the skillet into a large steel sink, then he stirred the pot again. He was whistling as he worked, loving every minute.

Gabrielle finished her appointed task and looked over at her host expectantly.

David glanced over and nodded. "Check this out," he said.

He drew the spoon out, covered in a thick red sauce. He tasted it and then offered it to Gabrielle.

"What do you think?" he asked.

She tasted it and her eyes widened in surprise.

"That's good," she said. "What is it?"

"What is it?" David repeated in shock. "What is it? Good God lady. You're tasting Shakespeare's magic venison pasta sauce!"

"Pasta?" Gabrielle asked.

"Christ, lady," David exclaimed. "You're from Greece. Italy's only a short swim away!"

"I've been to Italy," Gabrielle replied. "And I've never seen them prepare anything like this."

David stopped stirring the pot and looked at her quizzically. Then he shrugged. "Well, you're in for a treat."

He pointed at a large cabinet next to the refrigerator. "Grab the little green boxes that say Angel Hair on them and dump the contents into that other pot over there." He pointed to another pot of boiling water on a second burner. Then he tasted the sauce again and frowned critically. "Needs more garlic," he said as he took down a small clear container, opening the end and pouring the granulated contents in. After several seconds, he ceased and resumed stirring, then he tasted it again and nodded in satisfaction.

Gabrielle found the requested boxes. She pointed at them for confirmation. David nodded and she took them down, ripping the ends open and dumping the stiff contents into the boiling pot.

At the same time, David placed a thick mitten over one hand, and drew a large, silver covered dish from the oven. He removed the covering and spooned a generous amount of his sauce across the top of the contents, then he set the dish back in the oven.

He tossed the mitt on the counter and poked his head out into the main room.

"Twenty minutes people!" He announced. "Set the table!"

Derek called from a corner.

"Hey! Where's your brain pot and cell?"

"On the entertainment center!" David replied. "You get em?"

"You betcha!" Derek replied with a grin and returned to fiddling with a different helmet.

David ducked back in and went over to the large flat griddle. He pulled two small metallic dishes from the top shelf and set them on the hot surface, then he reached behind him and took a long sharp knife and onion.

"How's the sauce look?" He asked.

Gabrielle looked down at the pot she was stirring. The sauce was thick, red, and well – sauce?

"I think it's okay," she offered.

"Cool. Grab eight eggs and the veggies in the bottom drawer of the fridge. Bring them over here, please."

Gabrielle stepped over and opened the refrigerator, surprised to feel the cold air within the box. She opened the drawer and took out a huge bundle of mixed vegetables, all skinned and prepared for cooking. She brought them over to David who promptly tossed them all onto the griddle, dousing them with oil.

"Eggs, please," he said as he drew out his knife.

Gabrielle ducked back and quickly retrieved the eggs, holding them patiently as David worked. She watched the razor sharp blade sliced through the mixed vegetables with a swiftness that surprised her.

David held a spatula in the other hand and he quickly and neatly scooped and sliced veggies at blinding speed. Then he set the two implements down and grabbed two eggs, expertly cracking them over one of the bowls. He repeated this until all the eggs were in the bowl and, taking a whisk, he mixed them furiously for a few moments before dumping them on the griddle as well.

"Now," he continued as he worked. "I need you to grab that strainer there," he pointed to the thing hanging on the rack. "Fish me out a bunch of that shrimp in the seafood pot and bring them here, too."

"Okay," Gabrielle replied. She did as instructed and returned. David nodded to the griddle and she poured the small shellfish on there as well.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" she asked as David quickly lined the small creatures up and neatly cut off the tails in one easy stroke.

"Two more like that should be good," he said. Then he smiled. "I've been cooking since I was a kid. Went to school for it after I saw the guys at Benihana in action." Gabrielle returned two more times and then sat back to watch.

David moved with speed and fluidity that she had never beheld before, at least in a kitchen. The tails were stripped and scrapped off the cooking surface before she even realized they had been severed, then the eggs were diced into tiny fragments and mixed in with a large pile of brown rice that seemed to have magically appeared from nowhere.

Suddenly, the spatula caught one of the shrimp and launched it into the air. David expertly caught the morsel in his mouth and continued.

Gabrielle laughed.

"Want one?" David asked, looking over at her, his hands never slackening speed.

"Sure," Gabrielle replied, and another morsel flew up in the air right at her. She caught it neatly and popped it into her mouth.

"Ah, what the hell was that?" David asked. "If you're going to do it, do it right." And another shrimp went skyward. Gabrielle didn't even have to adjust her position. It landed in her open mouth and she grinned as she chewed.

"You are," she said. "You are crazy. One minute you're beating the stuffing out of someone and the next?" She gestured at him, smiling.

David scooped the eggs and some of the vegetables into the rice and tossed them expertly.

"Girlfriend," David said. "If enjoying life is crazy, then I'm certifiably insane." He consumed another shrimp in the same airborne manner and scooped the rice into the large waiting bowl.

"Table ready?" He shouted out the door.

"Bring it on!" Someone called impatiently from without.

"Come and get it!" David replied grinning like a madman as he scooped the rest of the veggies into another bowl.

Four women entered the kitchen. The first one was a tall, rail thin woman of forty years or so, with long pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes behind thick glasses. She had an air of authority about her as she stepped in. Her name was Debbie, though most of the Squad simply referred to her as the Queen.

"Whatcha got for us Shakey?" she asked with a slight southern drawl that augmented her husky voice.

"Lasagna's in the oven," he pointed. "Rice, veggies, sauce, and the dinner rolls," David replied. He looked over at his guest. "Could you give them a hand?" he asked.

Smiling, Gabrielle moved to assist.

The next girl was shorter and a bit heavier in build, with thick dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She wore black, skin tight jeans and a deep red tank top beneath a black leather vest trimmed in a red of the same color. Her fingers were covered in rings and she wore a thick silver chain about her waist as a belt.

"Michelle," Debbie ordered. "Grab the stuff in the oven, would you?"

Michelle grabbed the oven mitt and a matching one from a drawer and drew out the casserole dish.

She sniffed and sighed in anticipation.

"Shakespeare," she said. "You have got to give me the recipe for this."

"No way," David replied. "I do that and we'd never see you. Or we'd see a helluva lot more of you."

"Ha, ha," Michelle countered and she whisked the dish out into the other room.

The next girl to come in had long thick auburn hair that reached down below her waist. She was young, about twenty, with thoughtful green eyes. She wore a violet leather halter and a pair of blue jeans over her curvaceous figure. She quickly stepped up and gave David a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for cooking again tonight, Shakes," she said.

She grabbed the two bowls of vegetables and rice, and then looked over at Gabrielle as she backed away.

"Did he do the flying shrimp trick?" she asked.

"Hey, Katrina," David barked, and another of the small shellfish sailed across the room into her waiting mouth.

"Food – table – now."

Katrina smiled as she chewed and departed.

The final girl was small and thin. It was immediately apparent that she was related to Debbie. Same hair and eyes. Same build, and same infectious grin.

"Hey, Jesse," David ordered. "Get a couple of towels and grab the sauce pot, would you?"

"Sure," Jesse retorted in a confident melodic tone. "Give me the heavy shit."

She also received a shrimp in the mouth for her comment as she went grinning to her appointed task.

Through the entire operation, Debbie had simply sat back and watched David work.

"Is the serving platter behind you, Deb?" David asked.

Debbie reached up into another cabinet and drew out a large flat dish.

"Gabrielle," David asked. "Can you grab the steaks off the broiler and take them out, please?"

"Sure." Gabrielle took the dish and a pair of metal tongs. She quickly stacked the steaming steaks on the platter and headed for the door.

David smiled as he heard the cheers when the steaks emerged from the kitchen.

"You did that on purpose," Debbie said knowingly from behind him.

"Yup," David smiled as he cleaned the griddle and moved to the boiling seafood pot.

Using the strainer, he scooped the remaining shrimp from the water and then dumped the pot over into the adjoining sink. The steaming crab legs fell in with a clatter.

"So," Debbie asked casually. "Who is she? And why does she have such a wild aura about her?"

David smiled knowingly. "Aside from her name," David said. "I don't know, but I have my ideas."

"Oh?" Debbie stepped up next to him, her eyes looking at him expectantly. She smiled a wide toothy grin.

"Not those kinds of ideas," David corrected her, recognizing that look. "I think it might have something to do with Samhain?"

"Ah, those kinds of ideas." She leaned against the end of the rack. "Is this the one Shilah called me about?"

"She called you?" David dropped the pot on the floor with a clatter.

Gabrielle stopped short at the doorway when the massive utensil hit the floor. Several other faces peered in over her shoulders, curious about the noise.

"Damn, Shakespeare," Debbie smiled, easily moving off subject to avoid the awkward moment. "That's the first fumble I've seen you make in three years. You're slipping."

David bent to retrieve the pot and looked up at Gabrielle. She stood there with an alarmed look on her face.

David saw the genuine concern on her face, as did Debbie, and she began to smile again.

Michelle's dark head poked around the corner.

"Everything okay?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah," David said, snapping out of his stare at Gabrielle. He suddenly felt incredibly awkward. He picked the pot up and set that one inside the other, within the sink. "Got the wine out?" he asked quickly.

"Yup," Michelle responded with a frown.

David turned around to find Debbie holding another large platter and bowl. Quickly David set the crab legs on the platter, then he strained the noodles in the final pot, added a little olive oil to keep them from sticking and poured them into the bowl.

"We'll talk later," Debbie nodded and winked mischievously. Then she lifted the platter and swept out of the room.

"Bullit!" She shouted. "Get yer paws out of the lasagna!"

Derek stopped with his finger a fraction of an inch over the steaming casserole.

"Damn, girl!" he countered. "You're cruel."

David followed out of the kitchen, bearing the bowl of noodles, preceded by Gabrielle.

Everyone was standing behind a chair around a long table, waiting.

The table was covered with food and several bottles of red and white wine. All was set, and yet, still, no one moved.

David took a plate and moved around the table, selecting a small portion from each prepared dish. When he finished, he filled a glass of red wine and stood at the head. He bowed his head and muttered something. Then he looked up and said aloud.

"That we should never hunger."

Some of the others repeated those words, while most simply replied "Amen" or said nothing. Then David took the plate and vanished through the side door.

When he returned, he resumed his place at the head of the table and looked around. Then he lifted his wine glass. The others all followed suit with their selected beverage.

With an overblown, bombastic tone. David nodded to one of the men further down the table.

"I think a toast is in order." He raised his glass. "To Mister Zynda. Our thanks for bringing down that beautiful stag last week, allowing us to enjoy such a wonderful repast together in the spirit of friendship and family as we have always –"

Derek couldn't stand it any longer.

"Man," he interrupted. "Talk like a white boy, will ya!"  
David paused, a blank expression on his face for a moment. Then he sighed.

"Hey, Marty," he said simply. "Thanks for killing the deer. Let's eat."

Cheers broke out and everyone settled into a chair and began to pass the plates around.

Still somewhat curious about the plate of food left outside, Gabrielle settled into a seat between two other women. Katrina and Jesse were both open and friendly, and soon Gabrielle was doing one of the things she did best. She was talking. The talking turned to joking, and the joking turned to stories. Before long, she had most of the table enraptured as she spun tales from her life, though she made them sound like regular stories.

As the night progressed, she discovered a sense of community that she had forgotten since leaving her childhood home. These people, as different as they each were from one another, had formed a family of sorts. Their individual differences made them a stronger whole, each one contributing to the security of the others.

Gabrielle also heard stories from them. Stories that centered around brotherhood, respect, and shared adventure in the open wild.

There were several people at the table that night that she formed the beginnings of a strong friendship with.

The first one was the massive and suspicious Tommy. By the time the second helping was making the rounds, both he and Derek, by David's estimation, had been won over.

It went without saying that Debbie and the other girls in the party found Gabrielle's company pleasant.

By the time the bottles and plates were empty, Gabrielle, Michelle, Katrina and Jesse were deep in their own conversation. Suddenly Michelle looked up at Debbie.

"Hey," she said, a little drunkenly. "Gabby, here, has never been downtown! Can we take her this weekend?"

A sudden twinge of angst flared in David's gut. But he shrugged.

"She's a big girl," he said. "She don't need my permission. Just don't get her too lit." He smiled. "I doubt she could handle it."

Gabrielle met his stare with a challenging one of her own.

"Oh, man," Dusty leaned over. "That looks like a challenge to me."

David smiled. "Yeah, whatever." He took his wineglass, averting his eyes, and took a long drink.

"You gonna take that," Dusty grinned mischievously. "She's just a girl."

Opposite Gabrielle, Tommy closed his eyes and shook his head, smiling. "Dusty, man, you do not want to go there."

"What?" Dusty looked over at Tommy and in the process saw Gabrielle staring at him now.

"Just trust me," Tommy said knowingly, looking at Gabrielle and smiling. "She will hand your ass to you and make you like it."

Dusty slammed down the rest of his Jack Daniels and sighed. "Yeah, right." He grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass. Then his eyes met Gabrielle's and he paused.

She simply looked at him, and her eyebrow rose up slightly in question.

Katrina looked between the two of them and a smile began to spread across her youthful features.

"Dusty," she said knowingly. "This would be another really dumb move on your part."

Dusty simply held Gabrielle's stare evenly, a sly smile beginning to spread across his thin features. Gabrielle only mimicked that look as her own mind began to turn. Her hands rose and fell on the table as if to ask.

"Well?"

Katrina looked down towards the other end of the table.

"Dad!" She called. "Dusty's picking a fight again!"

At the opposite end of the table, a slender, middle aged man named Gary sat up straighter and looked down at them. He had long pale hair and wore a dark flannel shirt under his leather vest, a cigarette dangled easily in between his fingers. He looked at the two of them and smiled.

"I got ten bucks on the lady," he said, eliciting a chorus of laughter.

David simply put his head in his hand and shook it slowly. "Oh to be in the warm fuzzy glow of all this liquid courage," he muttered. Then he looked up at Dusty.

"Why?"

Dusty merely smiled wider, never taking his eyes of Gabrielle. "Why not?"

Then he looked up at David. "Just a friendly sparring contest, come on?"

Gabrielle also looked at David questioningly.

David only shrugged.

"Don't break him, is all I ask," he said. "I might have cracked that thick skull of his last night."

Gabrielle's smile grew as she realized that this, like the swordplay of the night before, was nothing serious. She stood up and drew the sais out of her boots.

"Whoa!" Dusty exclaimed as he saw the two weapons.

Gabrielle set the two weapons on the table and rose, stepping out away from the table a few paces

Tommy just held his hand up and waived Dusty away as his massive frame shook with internal laughter. "Man, I tried to warn you."

Dusty rose from his place and stepped into a small open space, away from the table. She stood waiting, her hands at her sides.

"Well," Dusty said with as much bravado as he could. "I'll be gentle."

Gary called out from the opposite end. "I hope she will be!"

Dusty stood before Gabrielle. The two of them were about the same height, though Gabrielle was a bit larger in build than her slim opponent.

Debbie called out from her place at the table.

"Dusty! You behave yourself, now!"

Dusty dropped into a fighting stance and shuffled in, throwing several slow experimental punches that Gabrielle deflected easily. It was clear that this contest was not about hurting anyone.

Dusty shuffled in again and tried a little more speed. Again, Gabrielle deflected them easily, matching his movements.

Dusty stepped back and smiled.

"You're pretty good," he acknowledged. Then he came in again at full speed, though he did not try to strike her directly. Again Gabrielle blocked his attacks, and this time managed to sneak a couple of taps on his body in the process.

Several of the people at the table clapped, especially the girls.

"Easy there, Gabby!" Michelle called out. "You're going to hurt his feelings!"

Gabrielle smiled and looked over at Dusty. He simply nodded and then shuffled in, quick as lightning, trying to wrap Gabrielle up in some kind of hold. Instead, Gabrielle expertly reversed it and brought the stunned man down to his knees, one arm held behind him in a wicked arm bar.

Dusty turned his shaggy head and looked up at Gabrielle, an enchanted smile on his face.

"Now that was cool," he said. "Marry me?"

Gabrielle released her hold and her mouth dropped in surprise. She laughed out loud.

"What?"

"Dusty got beat by a girl!" Katrina taunted him.

"Yeah," Dusty said, rising to his feet. "But I think I liked it."

"Oh Lord," Michelle moaned. "Gabby, he's gonna follow you around like a little lost puppy for weeks now."

Gabrielle laughed and extended her hand to Dusty. Instead of grasping her forearm, he took her hand and kissed it chivalrously, bowing. Then he saw Debbie holding his bottle of Jack Daniels and he sighed.

"On second thought," he said apologetically. "It would never have worked." He ran over and sat down on Debbie's knee, eyeing his bottle.

"Marry me?" he asked again.

She shoved the bottle into his arms and pushed him off. "I already got me a man," she replied. "Behave yourself!"

As the laughter died, Gabrielle decided that she would go into 'downtown' with the girls that coming weekend. When she informed Katrina of this, the young lady looked at her critically for a moment.

"Well," she said. "Then we need to get you some new clothes." She looked up at David. "Hey, Shakespeare. Can I borrow your bank card? I wanna take Gabby, here, shopping."

David looked quickly down at Debbie, who gave a subtle nod.

David slowly withdrew the card and passed it over to Debbie. "Fine, but you get parental supervision."

"My parents are in Phoenix," Katrina retorted. Then she saw Debbie take the card from David. She perked up immediately. "Okay, no problem!"

David looked at Debbie, eyes pleading. "Be gentle, please?"

"Define gentle," Debbie asked, grinning.

"She doesn't get her own bike," David retorted.

"Done."

TBC

11


	5. Booze, Bail, and Bikes

**Booze, Bail, and Bikes**

As the 747 jetliner circled over the city of Chicago on its final approach to O'Hare International Airport, it immediately became apparent to Alti that she had a tiny flaw in her plans.

The Chicagoland area was a sprawling metropolis in its own right, filled with several million residents, never mind that her nemesis might have ended up somewhere outside the limits of the city. A soft hiss escaped her lips and her eyes went a shade darker. In a day and age when everyone was part of a networked system, how do you find that one person who has not been included? Gabrielle was out of time and off the grid. She would have no address, no identification, no social security number, nothing. It would be like searching for a needle in a very large haystack.

She glanced back at Mr. Finch's associates. One of them, Carlos, a stocky man with Spanish features was working on his laptop computer with manic intensity. He had programmed physical parameters of Gabrielle and conducted a search on the federal database. During the flight, there had been several dozen hits, all of which Alti, or Professor Klaus, had immediately dismissed.

"Got another one," Carlos said unenthusiastically. He turned the laptop to face his employer. Alti stared at the image and hissed again, this time in surprise.

On the screen was the image of a driver's license. The image on the license was a perfect duplicate of Gabrielle, except that this person had slightly darker and much longer blonde hair. She scanned the information quickly, her eyes alight.

Heidi Willis, age twenty-seven, it was all there. Name, height, weight, birth date, she sighed when she realized where the person was from.

"This is a Texas driver's license," she said softly. Then she had an idea.

"Take that person's image and add it to the parameters I gave you, then search for any unidentified individuals that may appear in the system."

"Unidentified?" Carlos frowned, looking over at Mister Finch. "Isn't this her?"

Alti smiled. "It's as close as you'll get, but no. She's not the one I want."

Carlos sighed. This bounty was one of the more difficult ones he had ever taken part in. Still, always do as the employer wishes. He saved the data in the computer and added them, then he keyed in several more commands.

"All right," he said. "If anyone matching this description comes up in the local network, we'll know about it."

"Excellent, Charles," Mister Finch said calmly.

The group passed easily through customs and claimed their luggage. Out in one of the remote lots, they found their transportation. Two plain, black, unmarked Chevrolet sedans sat, waiting patiently.

Carlos took the nearest vehicle, while his counterpart, Alex, a large, meaty man dressed in an impeccable three piece suit, went with Finch to the other.

Alti slid into the passenger seat of Carlos' car and waited.

Carlos slid in beside her, adjusted his leather coat and turned the key. The engine hummed to life.

"Are these vehicles untraceable?" Alti asked expectantly.

"Absolutely," Carlos replied, his slight Spanish accent touching his words. "If the plates are run, it will randomly pull up another vehicle of the same make and model. He smiled and tapped his portable computer affectionately. "The wonders of modern technology."

Alti looked over at the other vehicle. The two occupants stared at her expectantly.

"Drive," she said, reaching into her coat and drawing out the star shaped crystal amulet.

One of the corners glowed with a faint white radiance. She pointed in the same direction.

"That way."

The two black sedans eased out of the parking lot and turned south, heading away from the city. They were just about to enter the expressway when Carlos' computer beeped a quiet chime.

"We just got a hit," Carlos said. He looked expectantly at his passenger who simply nodded. The two vehicles slid off to the side of the road and stopped.

Mr. Finch got out of the trailing car and strolled forward as Carlos opened his computer and hit a key. Instantly the screen flashed back to life.

"Well, well," Carlos muttered as he scanned the information. He smiled as he looked up at Alti.

"Chicago Police at the twenty-first precinct have arrested a young woman involved in a bar fight? The suspect is refusing to give her name and has no identification.

Alti literally began to salivate with anticipation. Something in her belly told her that this was the one.

"Do they have a picture?" she asked.

Carlos smiled as the mug shots downloaded to his computer. When the image appeared, Alti let a savage laugh burst from her. There on the screen was the image of a slightly confused and very irritated Gabrielle, listed as Jane Doe.

"That is the one we want!" Alti growled. She smiled a reptilian smile. "Where is this precinct?"

"Excuse me, Bernadette," Mr. Finch put in. "We cannot simply go down to a police station and walk in with the intention of killing her."

"We won't have to," Alti replied. "If I know the brat, she's already enlisted the aid of some locals. We just need to see who comes to her rescue."

"And if no one does?" Mr. Finch asked.

"Then we will secure her release," Alti said hungrily. "And when she's far enough away, in a secluded place and helpless," she looked at Carlos and Alex, "then we kill her."

All four of them smiled coldly.

David held the thick stack of receipts in his hand and groaned. He tallied them up for the fourth time and let his head sink into his waiting palms.

"Sixteen hundred bucks," he muttered. "They spent sixteen hundred bucks on a shopping spree?"

The door to the club house opened and Derek came walking in, cell phone in hand and a grim look on his face.

"Buddy," David said, "I am now firmly convinced that there is no animal more dangerous than a female in a shopping mall." He held up the cluster of receipts as if it was evidence being presented at a trial. "This is a freaking nightmare!"

"Yeah," Derek said soberly. He offered the cell phone to David. "And it ain't over yet."

Confused, David took the phone.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end prattled, and David's eyes rolled towards the ceiling in exasperation.

"Well, did you explain to her that he was harmless?" he blurted angrily. The voice continued and David stood up.

"She what? How bad? Wait a minute, Jerry said he'd do – where? Ah, God dammit all to Hell! I knew this was a bad idea! How much? No, no don't do a damned thing! Yeah, tell Jerry I'm on my way! Ask him if he'll take payment for damages in exchange for not pressing charges! Well, who in the hell else is gonna pay it?" He snapped the phone closed with a furious click and slammed it into his pocket. He looked at Derek and began walking towards the door grabbing his jacket and helmet on the way out.

"You coming?" he called over his shoulder.

"If only to see you chew her out," Derek replied, racing after him.

"Hey!" Carlos said from the passenger seat. "They're dropping the charges!"

Finch, now driving, smiled. "That means she has a benefactor of some kind."

"Which means she'll be out of there pretty soon," Carlos added. "We need to get moving!"

"Relax, Charles," Finch replied. "It will take them some time to process her out, regardless. We have time." Still, he pressed the accelerator forward just a bit more, in case he was wrong.

The gray Hyabusa and the big blue Valkyrie slid back into the parking stall before the massive precinct building. David removed his helmet and smiled, looking over at Derek.

He inspected the thin wire running from the helmet into his cell phone and nodded.

"That works nice." He said. "Now we can keep in touch."

"I thought about it when they came out with the voice activated feature for the handicapped." Derek replied proudly.

David disconnected the new cell phone from the helmet and set the helmet atop his handlebars.

"Now," he said, his smile fading to something colder than the night air. "Let's go bitch out the bitches."

The two leather clad men descended the steps into the police dispatch office. Sitting in front of the seargant's desk was a tall, willow reed of a man, with long blondish brown hair tied back in a short tail, and a dirty polo shirt and pants. He stood up, taller than David and nearly half as thick.

"Hey, Jerry," David said grimly, extending his hand. "Sorry about all the bullshit."

"No," Jerry's normally jovial face was set in granite. "No, this broad goes well beyond bullshit!" He was still seething with frustration. "She completely tore my place up! Now I know that things can get rough sometimes, but I have never, in twenty years of owning a bar, seen anything like the jujitsu crap she pulled in my place tonight! It was like a god damned Hong Kong fightfest in there! Half my stools, most of my tables, the mirror behind the bar, shelves, God damned near everything!"

"Jerry," David said darkly. "I can't do any more than I am now. I'll cover the damages, just send me the bill, and don't be stingy. Just don't prosecute, okay?"

Jerry looked at David for a long time, and then he looked off to the side as two uniformed police officers led a cuffed Gabrielle out of the holding area.

David did his best to keep his temper seething, despite the truly pathetic and apologetic look on Gabrielle's face.

She wore a pair of blue denim pants, pale blue denim shirt with vest and a thick black riding jacket.

She fixed the officers a frosty look as they released her bonds, and then she stepped over to David, rubbing her wrists. When she saw Jerry, she paused.

"I'm really, really sorry," She began. Jerry held up his hand and cut her off with a loud bark.

"I don't want to hear it!" He said. He turned back to David. "Thanks for being such a gentleman about this, Shakespeare. You can come by any time." Then he glared angrily at Gabrielle. "But I never want to see you in my place again, ever! You understand me? You don't even set foot on my parking lot!"

Gabrielle looked down, ashamed. "I understand," she said.

Jerry shook David's hand and departed. As he passed out the doors, Katrina and Michelle entered from having cigarettes somewhere outside. David began walking towards the door – stalking was a more appropriate term. He was furious at the entire situation.

"Shakes," Michelle started.

David held up his hand.

"Your car here?" he growled.

The girls nodded.

"Go home," David finished, then he looked at Gabrielle, still hovering uneasily in the lobby. "You!" David called. He gestured with his finger. "You come with me! We need to have a little chat." There was something so menacing in that voice that the two girls took their opportunity to depart, leaving Gabrielle to David's mercy.

Gabrielle followed after David, bracing herself for the anticipated verbal assault.

The clear glass door had barely closed behind them when David wheeled around and began walking backwards towards the two bikes.

"What the hell is with you?" he asked angrily. "Not even here for a whole week, and you land in shit like this!"

Behind him, Gabrielle saw Derek wince in sympathy.

David was a level headed man. It took a great deal to get him to this level of frustration. The frivolous spending of the previous two days had not helped his temper to begin with, but this episode on top of the shopping spree had been the final straw.

"You see," Gabrielle began to explain nervously. "We were sitting there, minding our own business, when these two men came up and began giving us a hard time."

"So, you never thought to leave?" David asked.

"Well," Gabrielle started, but David cut her off.

"If not you, then one of the others should have had the brain capacity to get out of the situation!" He blurted. "Instead, you go 'Jackie Chan' or whatever it is you do, and tear up my friend's place!"

Gabrielle paused and looked at him questioningly.

"Who's Jackie Chan?"

It was an attempt to lighten the situation and it failed miserably.

David raised his hands and let out a loud burst of sound in complete frustration.

"I'm sorry, alright?" Gabrielle offered. "We were just talking when these guys came over and started giving us trouble. One of them made a move, I shoved him back. He crashed into another guy, and after that it just went crazy?"

When he looked down at her again, her eyes were not fixed on him. They were looking down the concrete walk at something else.

"It can't be?" she asked in sudden horror.

David's angry face slowly switched to confusion and he turned and looked down the street. He immediately saw the two figures walking towards them, the thin man in the nice suit had his right hand in the left side of his jacket. Beside him the tall, thin, dark haired woman stared at them hungrily, like a tiger, eyeing prey.

"What the hell is this?" David asked.

"Alti," Gabrielle breathed. "That's Alti! I can't believe it!"

At the same time, the two figures adjusted their course, heading straight toward them.

"Who the hell is Alti?" he asked.

David saw the butt of a pistol extend from behind the folds of the man's coat.

"In front of a cop shop?" David thought. "No one could be that ballsy, could they?"

He looked at Gabrielle. "Unless they had no concept of modern law enforcement?" He looked down at Gabrielle again and a fragment of understanding came to fruition. Dread formed like a knot in his belly.

"Get on the bike," David said, backing slowly towards the Valkyrie. "Derek, fire it up."

"What's up?" Derek asked, then he saw the two figures approaching. "Ah man, this sucks." He pulled his helmet on and started his bike.

Gabrielle and David both turned and ran towards his bike. David leapt aboard and yanked the helmet over his head. The man and woman saw the sudden sprint and began pushing their way through a crowd of pedestrians, attempting to catch them before they escaped.

"Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go!" David said quickly as the Valkyrie roared to life.

Gabrielle jumped onto the seat behind him.

"Go, Bullit! Go!" David shouted, and the two bikes shot away from the curb, into traffic.

David looked in the mirror and saw the two figures jump into two black sedans and pull out after them.

"Ah, shit!" David muttered. He released his grip on the handlebars and quickly plugged his cell phone into the helmet intercom. The soft click echoed in his ear.

"Call Bullit," David said. Instantly the phone clicked, rang and Derek's voice came over the speaker.

"What's going on, amigo?" Derek asked.

"I don't know," David replied. "But they're in two unmarked squads behind us." He thought for a moment. "Make for the tollway! We'll loose them in the open!"

"You got it, brother," Derek said. "Just follow me!"

Derek's low slung, silver crotch rocket shot between two cars as the front wheel bounced off the ground.

David followed and watched as the two sedans executed a dangerous maneuver of their own to push through traffic. Two other cars slammed into one another as the black Chevy's forced their way forward.

"They're bound and determined," David announced. He rolled his throttle back and followed Derek's path in between cars as they zig zagged towards the on ramp.

Derek's Hyabusa leaned low as he turned onto the ramp, while David simply locked his rear tire and skidded around the corner.

Gabrielle hugged the back of David's body like a shield, her eyes fixed behind her. She saw the two black shapes careen down the ramp and leap after them.

"They're still coming!" she shouted, her eyes watering in the wind.

David looked down at his speedometer. The red temp light began to flicker. He cursed out loud. They were approaching another small cluster of vehicles.

"Bullit!" he announced. "I got a little problem here! The engine heat light just came to life!"

"Well," Derek replied. "That's what you get for bringing an untested bike into the city!"

"I wasn't expecting to be chased, Bullit!" David shot back angrily. "Head for 94 North. Once we get on that interstate, get next to me!"

"What you got in mind, amigo?" Derek asked as he dipped the bike in between two more cars.

David smiled behind his helmet. "I want to ruin their day." His eyes flicked down to the decorative sword hanging behind Gabrielle's left knee.

Gabrielle peeked over David's shoulder and saw the approaching rear ends of various vehicles, large and small. Ahead of them, Derek's nimble bike could be seen, flitting in between them with reckless determination as the two of them fought clear of the latest congestion.

"Junction 94 coming up!" Derek announced. "Break right!" His bike shot across four lanes of traffic towards the ramp. David followed, zipping just in front of a massive eighteen wheel tanker truck. The air horn blasted at them in anger as the rear trailer tires momentarily locked.

Derek and David took the ramp at a wild speed. As David leaned his bike over, he felt the pavement rip into the steel of the floor board beneath his feet. Sparks erupted from the contact of metal with pavement, moving at eighty miles an hour.

A quick check behind showed the two black sedans in hot pursuit, and they were gaining!

"Those got to be Interceptors," David said angrily. "But I know they aren't cops! Derek, get back here!"

Instantly, the Hyabusa was riding formation next to David.

"What you got in mind?" Derek asked.

Alti looked over at Carlos, white knuckles on the wheel as his dark eyes focused on his target.

"Don't lose her," she said, fingering the amulet in anticipation. "Just run them off the road."

"With pleasure," Carlos replied, smiling.

Then the two of them began to frown in confusion. A soft howling noise seemed to be coming from somewhere behind them. It was like a loud in-rush of air, but not like it at the same time. Suddenly a brilliantly painted yellow shape shot past the two cars with an unbelievably loud roar.

Alti saw small blue flames jetting from the large pipes at the back.

Carlos was rubbing his ear. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

The bike that pulled up next to the two of them was long, low, and so brightly painted that it seemed to glow in the flashing of the street lights. Suddenly another voice, low and monotonous added to the connection.

"Hey guys," it said. "What's up?"

"Johnny?" David smiled. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Long story," John's voice came back. Then David saw the helmeted head turn over his shoulder. "Piss someone off?"

David smiled. "Another long story!"

John, or Crazy Johnny as he was better known, sat in a bike that seemed molded to his own body. It was a modified four cylinder Suzuki cruiser with two large air intake scoops blended into the fuel tank, and massive three inch wide exhaust pipes stretched out past the rear tire. The bike had been designed for one thing; straight roads.

"Well," John's voice came back. "Since we both have long stories to tell, I say we ditch the party crashers so we can talk?"

"Johnny," David grinned. "Work your magic. Derek get up next to me!"

"Oh, man," Derek said nervously. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

David looked down at his gauge, the red light glowing brightly and flashing.

"Fraid so," he admitted. "Time for my passenger to get off."

"Ah, shit!" Derek moaned, and he sidled his bike up as close as he could to David's without hitting him.

David flipped open his visor.

"Gabrielle!" he shouted over the wind. "You're going to finish this little trip with Bullit, there!"

Gabrielle looked down at the rear wheel spinning next to her left leg, and her eyes went wide.

"I'm going to what?" she cried in panic.

Johnny's bike fell in behind them and held relative to the others as the two Chevy sedans closed on them with bloodthirsty speed.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder and then flipped two small toggle switches on his tank. Immediately, two amber lights began flashing next to his red taillight. He waited until the first Chevy was almost upon him, and then he depressed a small red button on his hand grip and twisted the throttle.

A blast of brilliant orange flame, twenty feet long engulfed the front of the encroaching Chevy. The driver swerved away from the threat and dropped back, fire still licking the front grille. It careened wildly off the road and plowed into a ditch.

"Now!" David shouted as the red light on his gauge flashed insistently.

"I can't do this!" Gabrielle shouted in fear.

There was another brilliant orange blast of flame as Johnny held off the second car.

"Dammit, Gabrielle!" David shouted angrily. "Get off my fucking bike!"

David and Derek crossed their hands and grasped each others handlebars. This gave David throttle control over both bikes while at the same time, allowed Derek to maintain the stability of the ride.

Gabrielle placed her hands down behind David's butt. Another fiery blast behind them startled her.

"Uh," John's voice came over the speaker, calm as always. "I can't keep this up forever?"

"Gabrielle!" David roared. "Go!"

Gabrielle eyed the narrow foot pegs behind Derek's calves. She pushed up on her hands and launched herself across the narrow gap, landing neatly on Derek's narrow seat pad, her feet landing solidly on both pegs. The two bikes wobbled violently for a moment, and the two drivers released their holds on each others bikes.

"Johnny!" David called. "Bug out!"

"Right," John replied dryly. "See ya!" There was a loud howl, and the yellow monstrosity rocketed past them.

Gabrielle looked back over at David. He slapped the visor of his helmet down and reached his left hand back onto the hilt of the sword.

He looked over at her and nodded. She saw the hand on the weapon. Her eyes flicked back to the closing vehicle and she suddenly realized what he was about to do.  
"David!" she cried out.

"Derek," David said simply. "Get the young lady home before curfew."

"All right, brother," Derek said gleefully. "Y'all stay black now! I'm outta here like last year!"

Derek kicked the Hyabusa down two gears and cranked the throttle all the way back. The engine screamed in delight, and he and Gabrielle shot away from David.

"Go, baby, go!" David cheered. "Hang up." The phone went dead.

He looked down at the pavement whizzing past his feet, and then back at the temp gauge. "Any second now."

"Forget him!" Alti cried in dismay. "I want her!"

"Damn lady!" Carlos shot back. "This is a Chevy, not a Lamborghini!"

They both watched as the silver motorcycle pulled easily away from them. Alti let out a cry of rage.

There was a soft ping, and then a sudden thud as the Valkyrie finally succumbed to the massive buildup of heat within its engine.

David managed to shift the bike to the left just before the rear wheel locked. The black Chevy still in pursuit came roaring up behind and to his right like an infuriated juggernaut. Time seemed to slow into one long terrifying series of moments.

David pulled the sword from its sheath and leapt as the front end of the car connected with his rear tire. He flipped over and threw the weapon at the windshield. The blade punched through the glass on the driver's side a split second before his body bounced off the hood and was launched skyward.

Carlos felt the point of the blade shoot through his chest. His body convulsed and the car slid sideways, sailing off the road and flipping over into the ditch, rolling with a series of sickening crunches.

David's body seemed to writhe and twist as it flew through the air, moving like a cat. He managed to get his legs beneath him. When he impacted with the ground, his boots blasted through the asphalt on the shoulder with a loud whump. His hand also hit the ground and he paused, looking down at his feet and the large series of spiderweb cracks beneath them.

Then he looked up and back toward the wreckage of the car behind him.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. Off to his other side, there came the slow deliberate sound of clapping. He rose, slowly feeling giddy in the rush of adrenaline, and removed his helmet, breathing deeply the cool night air.

Ares stood with that self satisfying smirk on his face.

"Nicely done," he said. "I told you I could help you out. So, what do you think of your new gifts?"

David pulled his feet out of the small craters and stumbled backward a couple of paces before falling squarely on his rear. He sat there for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that he was not a greasy stain on the pavement.

Ares stepped over to him and looked at him appraisingly for a moment.

"Hey!" he said suddenly. "Snap out of it! You're alive!"

"Yeah," David replied distantly. "Yeah, I know. I think. That was - was," he shook his head, trying to clear the endorphin induced haze. "Wow! What a rush!"

Ares knelt down before him. "Hey! Hey! Focus here!"

David's eyes turned to the war God's gaze. Ares held a finger up in front of him.

"Come on back down now," he said. "Lots to do yet."

He pulled David to his feet. "Alti has something in that car that you're going to need. Get moving!"

David turned, still wobbly and stared at the wreckage. He could see a large stain of blood on the shattered windshield where his sword had penetrated.

"Alti?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Ares said. "You know, the bad person here?"

"Right," David said. "Right." He stumbled over to the car and looked inside. Alti lay stretched out across the seat, while the other man, not the same one that he had seen before, sat pinned in place, the hilt of his sword protruding from his chest, and half his skull smashed beyond recognition from the impact.

In the unconscious woman's fingers was a small crystal amulet.

"Take that and get out of here," Ares said behind him. "Come on now. No time to lose."

Numbly, David reached into the carnage and removed the small item, absently shoving it into the inside pocket of his coat. Somewhere through the fog in his mind, he could hear the sound of sirens approaching.

Ares smiled at him. "I think you better get out of here," he suggested, as he vanished

Still lost in the haze, he half walked, half crawled drunkenly up the embankment, crossed the narrow parallel street, and stumbled into a dark alley between two large buildings. Each step was an eternity, his limbs leaden from the stress and strain. He managed to get behind a rusted old trash dumpster and let himself slide down the wall. His head lolled back against the rough brick and his eyes closed. Blessed darkness swallowed his mind and he knew no more. The helmet fell from his unconscious fingers.

Down below, on the road. The second black sedan pulled up and two men quickly removed the unconscious Alti, sliding her into the back seat before it continued down the highway and vanished. But David never saw that.

TBC

11


	6. Confessions

**Confessions**

"...Unit thirty-two, dispatch. We have the suspect. Requesting an ambulance to the corner of Bryn Mawr and Frontage."

David saw the red glare through his eyelids. His eyes fluttered open.

"Easy, big guy," a voice said calmly. "You look like you've been through a lot."

The image of a police officer with a tan uniform and a wide, flat brimmed hat slowly faded into view as the flashlight beam moved out of his face.

"Stew?" David mumbled groggily. "What's up?"

Stewart's dark eyes assessed David quickly and expertly. He shook his head.

He was a younger man, about David's age and at least a head shorter. He knelt before David, his police uniform perfectly pressed and neat. His deep, dark blue eyes stared critically at him.

"I can't believe you're conscious," Stewart said. "What the hell happened?"

A second officer, standing several feet back looked at the big man nervously. "Shouldn't we be taking him into custody?" he asked. His right hand was hovering near the butt of his pistol.

"Relax Frankie," Stewart snapped back. "I know this guy." He looked apologetically at David. "Rookie."

David smiled weakly and tried to sit up. "I won't hold it against him," he mumbled as he rolled forward in an attempt to rise and almost fell over.

"Easy, easy," Stewart caught him. "Just wait for the ambulance, man. You aren't going anywhere."

"Just get me back on my feet," David whispered. "Just get me back on my feet."

"Come on, Dave," Stewart protested.

David ignored him, reaching up to grab the rusty edge of the dumpster. He slowly, and unsteadily, hauled his body vertical, leaning against the wall. Half way up, he felt Stewart's arms wrap around his waist and assist him.

"Thanks," David said, his head against the rough brick.

Stewart looked up at him. "Can you remember what happened?" he asked.

David fought through the haze in his mind, trying desperately to think clearly. He shook his head to try and clear the cobwebs. This only initiated a piercing pain in his skull. Of all the times to get a migraine.

"No," he said drunkenly. "I remember the engine on the Valk running hot. I slowed down, then something popped." David frowned. "I think someone hit me?"

"Clobbered you's more like it," Stewart said. "The IDOT boys are shoveling what's left of your bike into a bucket."

"How'd you wind up out here?" The rookie asked suspiciously.

David looked at him, still riding high. "I-" he managed to mutter as he saw the flashing red lights that indicated the ambulance arriving. "I don't know."

He looked down at Stewart, completely confused. "Did anyone get hurt?" he asked.

Stewart's gaze went neutral. "Get checked out first," he said. "We'll talk later."

"Stew!" David said sharply, though the sound of his own voice made him wince in pain. "Did anyone get hurt?" he finished more quietly.

Stewart placed David's arm over his shoulder and helped him out to the ambulance.

"One person is dead," he said grimly.

The EMTs stepped out of the ambulance, foregoing the gurney when they saw the leather clad man being assisted to the back of their vehicle by the police officer.

David let himself be lowered gently onto the rear bumper of the vehicle. The EMT's carefully helped him out of his thick leather jacket and began going over him.

He winced when the young lady held a pen light up to his eyes.

"Christ!" He muttered. "How bright do those things get?"

"Just relax," she said softly. "You might have a concussion. Did you lose consciousness at any time?"

"He was unconscious when we found him," Stewart offered. "He also seems disoriented."

"Thanks for not saying drunk," David mumbled.

Stewart smiled. "Hey, man. I know you. You don't drink and ride. You never have."

The woman checking him over nodded and took David's helmet from him. She inspected the surface for scratches or cracks. Frowning, she then examined David's head carefully.

"Wait a second," She said curiously. "There's no sign of impact."

"I don't think I hit my head." David offered.

The EMT looked at David carefully, feeling his arms and checking his legs for any indication of discomfort. When she found none, she looked at David again, this time with surprise.

"Can you describe exactly how you're feeling right now?" she asked.

David thought for a few seconds and realized his mind was slowly clearing. The second EMT placed a small cup in his hand. "Drink this," he instructed.

David sipped the contents, discovering it to be only water.

"I'm a bit hazy," he confessed. "Like coming down off a heavy buzz. Kind of like feeling like my whole body is tingling, but heavy at the same time, like my weight doubled or something?"

The young EMT nodded and stood back. She looked at the two uniformed officers and shrugged.

"He's not drunk, or under the influence of narcotics," she said finally. "He's coming down off of an adrenaline surge."

"He's what?" Stewart asked.

"It's the crash after a 'fight or flight' response," the EMT explained. "Situations of extreme stress can cause it."

"I think having a car run up my ass would qualify," David said, sipping at the water and feeling the haze finally begin to clear. He felt tired. More tired than he could ever remember feeling in his life. His whole body still seemed to be moving in slow motion.

"Or being thrown from a vehicle," The EMT finished for him. She looked down at him critically for a moment. "We'll take you to the hospital and get you checked out, but I think they'll just send you home and tell you to get some rest."

"Well," Stewart said regretfully. "After the hospital, I'm afraid I need to take you in to the station for questioning."

"Why?" David asked.

"You know that sword you had mounted on the side of your bike?" Stewart replied.

David nodded.

"Well, its sticking out of the chest of the guy who was driving that car," Stewart finished.

David looked down at the pavement and then nodded his head. "Okay."

Alti paced about the room in a rage.

"How could you have left it behind?" she screamed. Her eyes bulged and her fingers curled into talons as she looked at the two of them.

"It was all we could do to get you out of there before the police arrived," Mr. Finch protested with his usual calm tone. He sat composed, one knee folded carefully over the other, his fingers tented before him, eyes cold and calculating. "Bernadette. You really must learn to control yourself. You accomplish nothing this way."

"Shut up!" Alti roared. She stood over him, her gaze wild, breath heaving. "You and your infernal courtesy! You are useless to me!"

"Bernadette," Mr. Finch began, but Alti grabbed him by the throat and bodily lifted him, pinning him against the wall.

"Stop calling me that!" she screamed. "I am Alti! Do you hear me? Bernadette is gone!"

She let him drop to the floor as small tracers of energy flickered between her fingers.

"Both of you get out!" She hissed. "I have work to do!"

The two men quickly withdrew, leaving Alti alone in the room.

The Shamaness paced back and forth for a few minutes, just letting her anger simmer beneath the surface. Her patience with the way the modern world seemed to function had been completely exhausted. She needed results and she needed them quickly.

Her only opportunity to become permanently housed in this pathetic reincarnation would arrive in just over five days and she needed to find the Chronos Stone in order to guarantee that. With the loss of the amulet, she had no viable way to secure her destiny.

She needed something that tied her to the strange man on the motorcycle, or, better yet, to Gabrielle.

She stopped pacing as a plan began to formulate.

"Of course!" she sighed, and a cold smile crept across her face. Gabrielle was the key. She was out of time. Out of place in this world, just like Alti, only she was not a reincarnation. She was real. She was displaced in time and that would make her different from the modern swarms of people in this world.

Granted, she had no idea if her plan would work, but if it did, she could home in on that irritating little bard like a homing pigeon, and none of these diversions that her benefactor could produce would stop her.

She stopped again, remembering the recent encounter with the strange figure. There had been something about him as well. Something in the strange aura of energy that surrounded him. It was more a feeling than anything concrete, but she knew that he, also, was different in some way. This unknown man was tied to her errand.

She settled down on the floor, sitting cross legged and closed her eyes, forcing her mind to delve into the unknown. The memory of that failed chase slowly coalesced in the back of her mind, and she played the entire sequence of events, searching for any detail to aid her.

It was an old trick, one of the first she had learned. Being able to recall a memory and examine it from different perspectives. The memory became a solid reality again, one that she could move about and control at will.

She saw his face, chiseled and rugged, with long hair and short scruff around his lips. His dark eyes turned to look at her as he realized that Gabrielle had spied them. The apparent anger in his eyes changed to something more subdued.

The three of them had mounted their vehicles and shot away from them when they understood that Alti had been present.

Alti zoomed through the next few minutes of the chase until she found the spot she wanted.

"Christ lady," Carlos had said. "This is a Chevy, not a Lamborghini."

She then watched with impotent fury as the large yellow machine shot another burst of flame at her car and sped easily away from her.

The silver one, now carrying Gabrielle also followed suit moments later. She saw her quarry move swiftly and inexorably away with effortless ease. She heard her own cry of rage.

All that remained was the last man on his motorcycle. His head moved up and down, then back to look at them, and back down again. His left hand dipped down and drew out something. She caught a subtle metallic shimmer as the street torches whisked by overhead.

Again she froze the images and moved to stand beside the man on his machine. It was a blue and white conveyance, slightly larger than the previous two. As she studied it, she noted the small red light glowing on the central console. She smiled.

"So," she said, crossing her arms. "This one's engine was not healthy." She kept her position, relative to him and continued the events, watching as he drew a sword from beside his saddlebag and hugged it next to the left side of the motorcycle, waiting.

Then his vehicle seemed to stop, and the car roared up behind him, impacting the left front end with the bike. The man was thrown. No! Not thrown! He had leapt into the air, spinning like an acrobat. His left hand wheeled around and she watched the sword! The image froze, and she studied this image carefully.

The man's aura had changed, subtly, but distinctly. He was filled with an energy that should not have been possible for these modern men. It was an energy that he had tapped into. The energy of the universe around him. He also was a shaman of some religious faction, though she knew not which deity he followed. His deity was actively protecting him in this moment, giving him the unnatural strength to accomplish this task.

She let the memory play forward slowly, watching as her opponent finished his maneuver, releasing the weapon with uncanny accuracy. She saw the blade punch through the clear glass windscreen and stab into Carlos' chest and watched his body convulse as the car careened towards the side of the road. She turned her head and looked out the back window in time to see the man accomplish something that should not have been possible.

He landed squarely with a force that should have pulverized the bones of his body into powder. Again she stopped the image and studied him.

He knelt on one knee, just as he had landed. One arm was touching the ground to steady him. She could see the back of his leather coat. The design upon the smooth surface. The image of a dark knight on horseback, charging through a mist with a host of skeletal servants behind him. Above and beneath the image were two words.

Zombie Squad. And much smaller, on a painted scroll were two lines of verse.

_"I know no beast that has but some touch of pity. _

_Yet I have none and therefore am no beast."_

The helmeted head turned slowly, deliberately, to look through her and she saw his eyes, dark and filled with unnatural ferocity, then the image went black as consciousness had left her.

That was it! She had her link to this man! She may not know what order this "Zombie Squad" was, or which deity it followed, but she could discover that, given time.

No. The time was too short. She needed something else. Something more defined. Something she could send her spirits to home in on. She played the memory back a second time, watching for anything else she might use. And this time, she found it.

She focused her attention on Gabrielle, astride as she had moved from his machine to the second one. She wore a simple, unadorned black leather coat, modern denim pants, and sturdy black boots, but her aura was different. It shone white about her.

If she were conscious, she would have cackled with delight. Her aura was completely different from the other forms around her. It was a beacon in the darkness. That last candle in the window of hope. A candle that she could now extinguish.

She saw something else as well. The back of the jacket on the other figure, with the words "Zombie Squad" also painted upon it in a different way. The image of a tiger's face, half bare of flesh stared at her with one green eye before it was obscured by Gabrielle's body.

She slowly returned to consciousness, feeling the inept Professor within her clawing for consciousness.

"Sit down and watch!" she taunted. "See the potential that you've wasted!"

Alti blinked and stood up, breathing deeply as she became corporeal again.

In retrospect, she realized that this simple meditation would not have worked a few days ago. Nor would the energy she used to wield so freely been evident as it was in her burst of rage with Finch. The closer she got to the supreme moment, the more her power grew.

She smiled again, and the smile grew to a slavering grin and then a loud cackle.

She stepped out of the room and moved to the next door.

"Finch!" She barked, pounding on the closed door with her fist. "Get moving, we have work to do!"

The door opened and Mr. Finch stepped out, his clear eyes showing no sign of fatigue.

"Yes?" he asked coolly.

"Where's Alex?" Alti demanded.

"Alex has chosen not to continue his association with us any longer," Mr. Finch said easily. "As that was his emphatic position on the matter, I was forced to terminate his employment."

"I see," Alti nodded, and she recognized the slightly sated look of a satisfied killer in Finch's icy gaze. "Pity."

"Yes, I was most disheartened," he shrugged casually. "Ah, well."

"I need to find out everything I can about something called 'Zombie Squad'." Alti ordered.

"Very well, Bern," he stopped and smiled coldly. "Alti," he finished.

He opened the door for her to enter and then settled down in front of Carlos' laptop.

He logged on and typed in the search parameters. The tiny image at the top right corner began to animate, indicating an active search.

The computer beeped a response after only a few seconds and Finch looked down at the screen.

He scrolled down the long list of possible sites and frowned.

"There are many references to a group of Zombie Hunters, whatever that means," he said as his eyes scanned the information. "A comic book site, several music sites, something about a paintball training camp." He continued scanning the dozens of references. Then his eyes lit up as he opened a web page designed for a motorcycle club. The page had everything he needed. Names, dates, images, events, everything they needed except an address.

One of the smaller options showed "Custom Bike Awards." He clicked that and read aloud.

"As is his style, Crazy Johnny came up with another show stopper at the Midnight Tour Custom Bike Show, and nearly got arrested for it. His modified Suzuki GS1000, dubbed the Motorpsycho, took first place in people's choice, and also nearly took the hair off the closest judges when he fired up his latest modification. A fuel fed flame-thrower and sparkplug apparatus that he had installed in the oversized tailpipes. It almost caused a stampede when the flames reached a length of over twenty feet, and set one of the concession stands on fire. Way to go Johnny!"

Beneath the lines was the image of the offending vehicle. Alti grinned broadly as she looked down at the same garish yellow monstrosity that had nearly immolated them earlier that evening.

"That's the one," she said. "Find out where they are! I want names and places of residence. Where they like to go, How many of them are in the order? Everything!"

"Of course," Finch replied. He was also smiling as he clicked on the small box beneath the "Sign Our Guestbook" flag.

He typed a few characters in and then pulled up the IP information about where the computer that held the site was located.

It was done in a matter of a few minutes and the two of them were on their way.

Gabrielle paced back and forth down in the main garage of the clubhouse, her mind lost in thought. She looked about her at all the strange and wonderful items that lay or hung within the place. The thirty, or so, motorcycles resting patiently, waiting for the owners to return. Her eyes fell on one of those machines, dark red and sitting quiet in the corner.

David's other motorcycle.

She walked over to it slowly, watching as the reflection of light moved across the smooth surfaces. Her heart was heavy with regret as she recalled the previous days. In the short time that she had been in this place, she had become rather fond of all the members of the Zombie Squad, and David in particular. They had made her feel at ease, well as much at ease as she could feel, given the circumstances, and David seemed to go out of his way in an effort to make the entire transition as painless as possible, including her as much as he could in everything that was going on. They had accepted her in the end and hadn't asked too many questions. They had respected her privacy in the matter she was sent here for, and indeed, none of them seemed to know about it or care.

Her mind drifted again to David. The image of those deep thoughtful eyes flashed in her memory, recollecting the vision before she arrived in this place. The words of the Stygian Witches suddenly rang in her mind with more relevance than she had given them credit for. Words that, at the time, had seemed a simple taunt now carried a new and more powerful weight.

"_Seek the Valkyrie. It carries the sword of the dispossessed one. He shall be your ally."_

"_More than an ally."_

"_He will be the closed circle."_

Gabrielle contemplated those words for a long time, her hand slowly caressing the mirror smooth magenta surface of the motorcycle. The mood of the building was dark and subdued. Not like when she first arrived. Even the buzz of the strange-lighted tubes seemed more dismal, like a low groan instead of a melodic hum. She suddenly felt as if she were being watched. Her eyes turned about the room, seeing the various headlights of the motorcycles all seemingly turned towards her, half expecting, half filled with grim determination or hope. It seemed that, if the human element could grieve for the missing member of their family, this collection of machines was doing the same for one of their own. Man and machine alike, all part of one large family. She thought back to the time when she and Xena, along with Argo, would travel the land. Argo, tall and majestic in her pale beauty had been as much a mode of transport for Xena as she had been a friend. Two thousand years into the future and beings like Argo had been replaced by beings like these.

It was the type of company that reminded her of her life with Xena, now so far away. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and it surprised her. Glancing up at the closed door to the main room, she noted the silence. There was no laughter, no strange music, and no sounds of joy to be heard. Her mind reached out to try and touch something of the energy in these strange machines. She was startled when she felt a response.

"It's usually only the coven that speaks with us," a soft echoing female voice seemed to say.

Gabrielle turned and saw a single figure standing near a workbench, where David's motorcycle had been sitting a moment before. Gabrielle was suddenly aware that she had inadvertently placed herself into a trance state. This surprised her, since the last time she did this, she had been trying to face Alti in the dream world. That had taken a full-blown ritual and all the necessary accoutrements. She suddenly remembered the taste of the stag's blood. It was palpable, as if she had just done it again.

She opened her eyes again and beheld the stranger. She was slender in build, with long, fiery red hair and a deep red tint to her skin. She wore a simple black leather vest and coat and rich black leather pants covered her long, athletic legs. She stood poised with her hands on her hips, appraising Gabrielle with pale yellow eyes, like crystals.

"What are you?" Gabrielle asked, hearing her voice echo around her.

The other woman smiled and leaned back against the workbench.

"I'm Rose," she said. "And you are Gabrielle, aren't you?"

Gabrielle nodded.

Rose smiled and nodded. "Yeah, David and I were talking about you last night."

Gabrielle frowned. "He spoke with you?"

Rose nodded. "He always speaks to me while we're riding. He had a lot on his mind, so I take him for a spin, maybe an hour or two, and I help him work through whatever it is. We've covered over sixty-five thousand miles, and God knows how many issues, in the last ten years."

She smiled smugly and then nodded. "Oh, I never got to introduce myself last weekend," she said apologetically. "Nice to finally meet you."

Gabrielle was unsure of this spirit. "I don't remember seeing you before?"

Rose laughed, genuinely amused. "David and I brought you here, sweetie."

Dawning appeared on Gabrielle's face. "You're," she stammered, not sure how to put it.

"Think of me as his guardian angel, if that makes it easier for you," Rose said easily. "Just like Bullit, there is Derek's."

Gabrielle turned and saw a slender olive skinned woman in a silver bodysuit lounging patiently on the lift where Derek's silver Hyabusa had been resting. She rolled over, catlike and stared at Gabrielle with clear crystal eyes. She smiled hungrily.

"Hey there," she said in a soft melodic voice similar to the sound the machine made when Derek twisted the throttle. "I hope I didn't frighten you too much tonight? My man loves to go fast with me." She let out a satisfied sound that might have been a purr if it didn't sound so metallic and mechanical.

"What are you?" Gabrielle asked, turning back to Rose.

Rose smiled. "Call us Spirits of the Open Road, if you like?"

"We like it," Bullitt agreed, now lying on her back and looking up at Gabrielle with a smile.

The door opened with a soft squeak, and Debbie emerged. She looked down at Gabrielle and smiled comfortingly as she came down the steps. Gabrielle blinked, and when she looked back, the silver Hyabusa and the magenta Honda were back where they had been. In the crystal orbs of the headlights, though, she suddenly felt them looking at her.

"How you doing?" she asked.

Gabrielle only suppressed a shudder and turned away from the bike. "I'm alright," she muttered. A grim smile played on her face. "You'd think I'd get used to this by now."

Debbie came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We don't know he's gone," Debbie said. "Believe me, Shakespeare can take care of himself. I've seen him get thrown from Rosie, here, and laugh about it when he landed."

"Why do you call him that?" Gabrielle asked. "Shakespeare?"

Debbie smiled and sat herself down on a large black motorcycle parked nearby.

"Cause that's who he is to us," she said. "All of us get nicknames here, the bikes too. They're a part of who we are."

She gestured to several bikes and smiled as she reminisced.

"Over there is the Motorpsycho," she said and she gestured to the large yellow beast now sitting quietly in front of an even larger tool box. "We call her owner "Crazy Johnny" because he is. He's just out of his mind sometimes." Then she pointed out a beaten old Yamaha covered in dust. "That there is Slut," she smiled. "Because that bike has been ridden hard by everyone in this crew at least once, and dumped just as often. That was my old man's ride until recently." She patted the handlebar of the bike she now sat on. "This is the Mistress," she finished. "Steve's new bike."

"Mistress?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yup," Debbie grinned a little wider. "Cause she's the only other lady that my husband gets to ride."

Gabrielle looked at Debbie for a moment and then the laugh burst from her, washing the sadness away for a moment.

"And of course," Debbie gestured over to the silver Hyabusa and the red Honda. "You've already met Bullit and Rosie."

"Yeah," Gabrielle said. "I never knew anyone could go that fast."

"Like a bullet," Debbie said. "Her owner's got the same name, because that's what he likes to drink."

"Bullet?" Gabrielle asked.

"Coors," Debbie corrected, then she whispered. "It's a black thing, or at least, that's what Derek says."

"But aren't these only machines?" Gabrielle asked. She looked back at "Rose" as if fearing she may have just insulted someone.

"Oh no," Debbie replied. "These are much more than that." She pointed over to another large bike, similar to the Mistress, but a deep magenta color.

"That, is The Lady," Debbie said. "Gary's bike, or 'Dad' as we like to call him. That bike has kept him alive for a few years. Even brought him home safe when he was too drunk to stand up. No one knows how, but it happened. He just stumbled over to her, got on, and she brought him home."

Gabrielle turned back to David's bike. "This one is very special to David, isn't it?" she asked, beginning to understand.

"Ah," Debbie said proudly. "Rosie. Absolutely."

Gabrielle let her hand fall tentatively on the hand grip. She could feel the energy within the machine, like a living essence, and suddenly her encounter of a moment before began to make sense.

"Spirits of the Open Road," she whispered in understanding.

"It's short for "Rose at night, or something," Debbie said, uncertain for the first time.

"Her name is Rosylinda Illuminos Nocturna," a weary voice said from behind them. "It means, 'Rose of the Moonless Night'. I named her as a sort of sister to Ophelia, the Rose of May, in Hamlet."

Debbie only nodded her head and smiled a knowing smile, while Gabrielle turned and saw David standing beside another man dressed in a light jacket and dark brown slacks.

Gabrielle ran over to him and hugged him fiercely. David let out a tired grunt when she impacted him and then wrapped an arm around her.

"What's this?" he asked with a tired smile. "You miss me, or something?"

She looked up at him and opened her mouth to speak, but David quickly and subtly shook his head. Then he turned to the newcomer. "Gabrielle," he introduced, "this is Stewart. He was kind enough to give me a lift back."

"Least I could do after the twenty questions session," Stewart smiled. He shifted , and Gabrielle caught the glint of metal on his shirt beneath the jacket. She may not have been familiar with much in this time, but she knew an emblem or crest when she saw one.

Then she looked up at David, and suddenly punched him hard on the shoulder.

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" she said angrily.

David looked down at her in surprise and suddenly saw the look in her eyes. They were big and bright, filled with a sudden longing. It seemed in that moment that a sudden attraction became palpable to everyone in the room. Gabrielle opened her mouth to say something, her eyes wet around the rim, as if she were recovering from some ancient nightmare. She lifted her hand towards his face, but stopped. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She glanced around at all the faces in the room. Even the myriad of motorcycles seemed to be watching her with expectant, glass eyes.

Then, suddenly awkward, she turned and quickly excused herself.

Debbie watched her retreat and smiled, leaning back on the Mistress. She looked at David knowingly.

"Well, Shakespeare," she said. "I think she likes you."

David winced and rubbed his sore shoulder. "Really? What gives you that idea?" He also felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to follow after her. He forced his eager feet to stay put.

Debbie's grin widened. "How hard did she hit you?"

David feigned laughter and turned back to Stewart. "Thanks for the ride," he said.

"No problem," Stewart shrugged. "Just call me if you remember anything. They'll need to keep the bike impounded for a while, until the investigation's done."

"Not a problem," David nodded. "I understand."

Stewart nodded and smiled, looking at David carefully for a moment and then he nodded to Debbie and departed.

Once he was gone, David turned to Debbie and sighed. "I think everything needs to come out on the table now. Don't you?" He settled down on Rosie and patted the tank lovingly. "I'm glad you weren't out there with me tonight, baby. It wasn't pretty."

Debbie nodded. "I think they're ready, and I know Gabrielle's been dying to tell someone who she really is."

"Even though you already know?" David asked.

"I have a few ideas," Debbie nodded. "Shilah and I have talked, and we are in agreement. We'll wait till the rest of the regulars leave, and then we'll talk. In the meantime, you need to make an appearance and get a drink. You look like you could use it."

David smiled and trudged towards the steps. "You have no idea."

Debbie watched him go before she drew out her cell phone and dialed a number. The other end clicked.

"Shilah?" she asked.

"Hey Debbie, how are you?"

"Fine, fine," Debbie replied. "I think you might want to come out here tonight. It's all coming out."

"Okay," Shilah replied. "I'll tidy up a few things here and see you all later."

Once the initial enthusiasm and relief died away, the rest of the Squad slowly filtered out, each heading for their respective homes. It suddenly occurred to David that he had not been to his own home in over a week, having spent every hour at the clubhouse, or on the road with his new found friend.

He leaned wearily against the bar, cradling his glass of Southern Comfort between his fingers. The pungent smoke from his lit cigar rose and writhed in the gentle breeze from his breathing. His mind wandered back over everything that he had experienced over those past six days and a smile began to play at his features.

"Whatever she is," he thought, "she's not a boring guest." He took a puff off the cigar and relished the taste. "Nope, not boring by far."

He glanced over towards Gabrielle, deep in discussion with Debbie. Occasionally, Gabrielle or Debbie would look his way and Debbie smiled that annoying "I know what you're thinking" smile.

What was he thinking? He pondered that for a long while. She had suddenly burst out of nowhere and basically attached herself to him and his extended family in rapid succession. She had done this by being - what? Genuine? Yes, genuine would be a good word. Though she had said very little about who she was and where she had come from, she had managed to quell suspicions while still not saying anything of import to any of them.

What was it that she had said that first night? That she suspected she had been placed in that particular place at that particular time because she was supposed to meet him.

"Well," he mused. "That's a might bit convenient." Perhaps too convenient? Something else to ponder later.

His thoughts turned inward, more self searching as he began to evaluate his own feelings. Again his eyes turned towards Gabrielle and that stupid smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Yes, he was fast becoming fond of her, if "fond" could be considered the right word. Of course there were, as always, the baser issues. Gabrielle was young and attractive. She had a way about her that was naturally mysterious and very alluring. It had been that initial allure that he had struggled to ignore, simply out of respect for the circumstances. Initially, he thought she might have been some poor girl who had been abandoned on that road, or maybe fleeing from an abusive relationship. Now, there was something else entirely at work, though he didn't understand what it was. Over the last couple of days, he had begun to notice that he was also preoccupied with thoughts of her. And then the incident at the bar. His initial reaction had not been one of anger, or frustration. No, he had been concerned for her well being. Had she been injured? Killed? Had he lost someone that he barely knew, but was already quite comfortable around? Then his thoughts just before the chase. He wanted her out of that situation, and it didn't matter what the cost to himself could have been. He had been overcome with a need to protect her from whatever that crazy lady had wanted. All he knew about that was: it could not have been good. There had been a genuine fear in Gabrielle's eyes when she spied Alti coming up the sidewalk.

David had seen the woman as well, lean and savagely attractive in her own way, but her eyes had been nothing more than dark, lifeless pits.

Alti. Who was she and what was her connection to Gabrielle? They were obviously familiar with one another?

He suddenly remembered the amulet in his jacket. He fished it out and studied it. It seemed like nothing more than a gaudy crystal necklace. It was old, and the metal work, though exceedingly intricate and pleasing to behold, was tarnished with the passing of years, maybe even centuries. Still, it didn't seem like anything important. For all he knew, it was worthless to him. However, Ares had insisted that he take it from the unconscious woman after the crash - why? What was it for? What did it have to do with Gabrielle? For that matter, what did Ares have to do with Gabrielle? There was another little variable in the equation, and all of it was centering around this mysterious young woman that he hardly knew. He remembered their conversation in his dream walk. Ares had said very little about her after his initial council about what she would say, but everything in his demeanor and manner had suggested that he was intensely interested in her. Yet another why?

And what was that with the hug and then the punch in the shoulder back down in the garage? He had seen the look in her eyes. There had been genuine concern about his well being, that was plain enough. Any half hearted moron would have been concerned for anyone given the circumstances of those events. But there had been something more to it. Something deeper in her eyes which she quickly covered before bolting up the stairs and back into the safe anonymity of the rest of the squad. Now, instead of pelting him with questions about what had happened, as she usually did about a myriad of other things that they all took for granted, she was keeping a discreet - no, more than discreet - distance from him.

He looked back over at the two of them, sitting across a low table from one another. Debbie's bemused expression had been replaced by one that was more serious. It was a sympathetic and understanding expression. She was listening to Gabrielle speak and hovering on every word, like a doctor sifting through information in order to arrive at a particular diagnosis.

He also noted Gabrielle's expression. She was nervous, even worried. There was a hint of sadness and resignation in her expression, and an almost pleading in her eyes as she spoke. Her body language was one of quiet, internal torment. She looked over at him again as she spoke and saw him staring at her. She saw the genuine concern, as well as curiosity, in his gentle gaze.

She merely smiled softly and turned back to Debbie.

Debbie placed her hands over Gabrielle's and leaned closer, whispering something to her in a matter-of-fact way that had made her a popular mother of confession for so many of them.

Gabrielle listened and then shook her head, only to have Debbie press her hands gently but firmly on hers again. She said a few more things and David could see the emotion touching Gabrielle's face. There was suddenly a deep sadness about her that seemed to dim the lights in the room slightly. He could feel a heartbreaking sense of loss emanating from her in that moment.

He began to feel like he was prying into matters that did not concern him, and he turned back into his own contemplation. Suddenly, the amulet glowed faintly. One of the four clear pointed crystals shone briefly with a faint radiance that would have been missed if it were not for the dark color of the bar's surface. At the same moment, the green central crystal pulsed slightly with its own internal fire.

The rear door of the club house opened and in walked Shilah, her long dark hair fluttering in the cool breeze that rushed in with her.

David smiled in surprise as he quickly slipped his little trophy back into his jacket.

"Hey," he smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Debbie called me," Shilah answered easily as she slid her rotund frame onto the stool next to him. "She said that she had some things to discuss with us tonight?" She shrugged, but David already knew that Shilah was holding back.

"And?"

Shilah looked over at Gabrielle and Debbie, rising from their private conference and approaching them. Gabrielle had a nervous look in her eyes as she stared at him.

"I think our new found friend here, will need to tell us most of it." She smiled.

Shilah rose from the stool and stepped up to meet Gabrielle. She extended a hand.

"Hello," she said.

"Shilah?" Gabrielle asked. When the other woman nodded, Gabrielle continued.

"You're the Shamaness that Debbie said was coming here tonight?"

"One of them," Shilah replied evenly. "Though, at the moment, you seem to be surrounded by them."

Gabrielle looked back at Debbie in surprise. The thin woman only shrugged and smiled warmly.

Then Gabrielle looked at David, sitting there with his drink in one hand and smoldering cigar in the other.

"You?" she asked him, eyebrows arched.

"For the last ten years," David replied. He raised his glass in salute and drained it. "Though I'm not as proficient at some things as Shilah and Debbie here."

"David's strengths are in other areas," Shilah said, smoothing over the self recrimination. "He has a natural ability to Dream Walk, and is very good at absorbing and controlling energy."

"Along with being an exceptional seer," Debbie added. "Considering that he was not born into this practice."

Gabrielle looked at the two women and then back to David with wonder and a new respect in her eyes.

"Is that how you survived the crash?" She asked.

"Crash?" Shilah asked suddenly. She looked at Debbie. "You never said anything about a crash."

"It wasn't anything big," David said, hoping to get out of this subject.

"Wasn't anything big?" Gabrielle repeated. Then she looked squarely at Shilah.

"The last I saw of him, he was sailing through the air as Derek whisked me away." She looked at David again. "Almost got himself killed because of me," she finished, her voice softening with a touch of sadness, or perhaps regret.

David casually let a wry smile pull at his lips.

"Well," he said, puffing his cigar again. "I can think of worse reasons."

"You can fit what's left of his new Valkyrie in a shoe box," Debbie continued. She fixed her eyes on David. "From what Derek and Gabrielle described to me, you should be dead, Shakespeare. Or, at the very least, in the hospital."

Shilah's eyes fixed on David intensely, and she seemed to be reading him.

Finally David threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine! Fine! I had a little help!" He stepped around the bar and refilled his glass.

"From whom?" Shilah asked suspiciously.

"Wait a moment," Gabrielle said suddenly. "I think it would be better if I started this. After all, I was the one that ended up getting all of you involved in the first place."

Gabs, baby," Debbie said kindly. "We were already involved in this long before you showed up."

"What we're missing, is what I suspect you've brought with you," Shilah nodded. "Shall we sit down and talk?"

Gabrielle looked up at David, who merely nodded and reached behind him, grabbing the half empty bottle and following the three women around to the overstuffed sofa.

At that moment, three more individuals stepped into the room.

Katrina, Jesse, and Tommy.

"Downstairs is all set," Tommy said easily. He sidled up to the bar and reached over, helping himself to a beer from the cooler. "Whenever everyone's ready."

"You too?" Gabrielle said, her jaw dropping.

Tommy slapped the top of the beer bottle against the edge of the bar and caught the small cap as it flipped up in front of him. He smiled.

"Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"There have always been men in the arts of Shamanism," Shilah said easily, "though women were by far the majority."

"I still prefer the term 'witch'," Tommy interjected. "When I think of a shaman, I picture a skinny, bald, little old man living in a cave and dressed in a loincloth." He looked down at his massive frame. "Not a pretty image."

David smiled as he settled into a seat. Much to his surprise and relief, Gabrielle sat down next to him and waited while the others situated themselves.

After everyone was settled, an uncomfortable silence fell as all eyes fixed on Gabrielle.

She, in turn, seemed to study them for some time as if deciding if they were worthy of her confidence. Finally, she took a deep breath and began.

Once she began, she did not stop. They all talked for what seemed like many hours as she related her life tale concerning her and Xena's adventures. She had encountered this strange and wonderful companion in the summer of her seventeenth year and had journied with her faithfully over the next five years. It was a tale of high adventures, filled with growth, humanity, and the entire scope of human experience. The two friends had shared life and death together in a way that most people never even dream. Her tale stretched across the ancient world, filled with men and creatures of history and legend. It seems that the majority of the myths and legends of the classical era were actually true.

Gabrielle described in great detail how she and Xena both had regular interaction with the Gods of the Greek pantheon. Ares, in particular, seemed to have an almost obsessive desire for Gabrielle's friend and mentor. Later, he began to develop a fixation on Gabrielle herself. The young bard poured out her heart. She left out nothing and the gathered coven became more entranced with who and what she had been, and was.

When she reached the end of her first five years and spoke of being lost in the ice for twenty-five more, however, Jesse had to stop her.

"Let me understand this," she said suddenly. "Both of you slept in the mountain for over twenty years?"

Gabrielle nodded. "Twenty-five," she said. "By the time we awoke, Eve had grown up to become Livia, the Champion of Rome, and one of the most dangerous women in the known world. She was the adopted daughter of Ceasar Augustus."

"Look," David said, thinking he might have finally caught her in an elaborate hoax. "I've studied ancient history. Now, I am by no means a scholar, but I think someone with a past like this Livia would have warranted some mention, other than your scrolls."

Gabrielle shrugged. "The Roman society frowned on women in positions of power to begin with. When Eve chose to abandon her way as a soldier, the Roman Senate probably had all record of her removed from their history, much in the same way Xena was never mentioned in the goings on around the world at the time. We were always in the background, but the two of us never really got any credit." She shrugged. "Didn't matter, though."

"I think it does," Shilah said. "The two of you lived at a time when history was being made. Legends walked around, larger than life and just as powerful. If you had a part in shaping those events, then it's only fair that you be mentioned."

She paused and stared at David for a long time. A smile spread across her face and suddenly, she gave a short laugh.

"I don't think anyone has ever said anything that nice to me," she said. "Thank you."

"Seriously," Tommy added. "The two of you spent the better part of your lives travelling in a world that makes Detroit look like Candyland."

David seemed more philosophical. "It's no exaggeration to say that your actions framed the world we live in today. You two were – are remarkable."

"For a long time," Gabrielle said, looking down at the mirror smooth finish on the table thoughtfully, "I thought that my life had been meaningless. As much as Xena taught me, I could never be as great as she was. When she died, I thought that was the end of it. Then her spirit stayed with me all the way up until," she stopped.

David could see a fresh pain reawakening in her eyes.

"Please?" Shilah asked. "It's alright."

"Even after Xena passed, her spirit stayed with me," Gabrielle started. "I don't know if she chose not to go to the Elysian Fields, or maybe she was simply waiting for me to join her before she went?" She shrugged.

"About a month ago," Gabrielle continued, "she came to me in a dream."

It seemed that even her face paled at the memory.

"It was terrible," she said. "She looked so sad. She told me that something was coming and I was needed to help stop it. She said that I was going to go somewhere that neither of us had ever been, and that she wouldn't be able to follow me."

"I've never really been on my own," Gabrielle shuddered. "Even after Xena died, she was always with me, until now."

"I can understand how that might be tough," Katrina said.

Shilah leaned forward intently. "Did Xena say what was going to happen?"

Gabrielle shook her head. "Not really. She didn't have a lot of information. All she said was that I had to go to a New World and stop Alti from returning."

"You mean that shaman woman that messed with Xena's head long before you met her, right?"

Gabrielle nodded.

"Gabrielle," David said. "You told me that Alti was dead. You said Xena killed her about the same time she found out you were still alive after that whole lava pit thing?" He was careful not to mention Hope by name. "And then, tonight, you said you saw her here, in this time?"

"I know," Gabrielle nodded. She held her hands up in a helpless gesture. "Alti's somehow found a way to use the Chronos Stone to regain her physical form."

"Chronos Stone?" Jesse asked. "What's that?"

"A friend of mine, Autolicus, found it a long time ago." Gabrielle explained. "He said that it allowed him to move through time."

"So, Alti used this Chronos Stone to jump ahead, before she got killed the first time and, what, try and pick up where she left off?" Tommy asked.

"That's what I thought, at first," Gabrielle nodded. "But that's not quite it."

"Oh?" David leaned on his knees. "Do tell?"

"The Chronos Stone has other properties," Gabrielle explained. "During certain times, it can actually reverse time for an individual, or individual souls. A certain conjunction that occurs every couple of thousand years, or so. During that time, a soul might be able to use the Chronos Stone to return to the land of the living."

"But you recognized Alti when she showed up outside the police station tonight?" David asked. "That tells me that she's already achieved what she wanted."

"Not precisely," Shilah said thoughtfully. "In effect, this whole situation proves the theory of reincarnation. Everything lives and dies, only to return as something else in a new life. Alti may not be completely flesh and blood, but she could have possessed her most recent incarnation."

"It makes sense," Debbie nodded. "The energies between Alti's spirit and her current incarnation would be enough alike for her to take control, maybe even wrest it from the current incarnation permanently."

David looked at the two of them and then sidelong at Gabrielle. "See? The experts."

"Wait a second," Jesse piped up. "That doesn't make any sense. This spirit of Alti is from the past. That same spirit would also be inside her current incarnation, right?" She was fumbling for a word, her hand rolling in front of her.

"Wouldn't that be a, um, a, oh what's the word?"

"Paradox?" David offered.

"Yeah!" Jesse nodded. "Wouldn't that create a paradox, or something?"

"I would think so," Katrina nodded. "You can't have the same spirit twice over."

"Unless you have a tool that makes it possible lying about." Shilah said knowingly.

David nodded, and then the realization hit him. "The Harmonic Convergence!"

Gabrielle frowned. "What?"

"It's a solar event that last took place around twenty five hundred years ago, give or take," David explained as his excitement began to build. "It's an event when all nine of the main planets in the solar system come into a specific alignment."

Gabrielle nodded. "Where I came from, they called it the Joining of the Heavens!"

She stood up and began pacing back and forth. "Alti must be planning to use the stone to return to life, here, during your Convergence!"

"How would she do that?" asked Tommy.

"She would need to blend both incarnations together into one complete being. One with the ancient knowledge that's been lost, and the modern knowledge of her current incarnation. She would need the stone and an open portal to draw energy from. She would be drawing on the very essence of the universe to make the transition."

"Portal," Tommy mused as he sipped his beer. Then he remembered. "Portal." He exclaimed with a knowing grin. "A ritual to seal the breach!" He looked over at Shilah. "That's what you meant!"

"You've been saying for weeks that you have everything ready, but you didn't know exactly when to set it up!"

"What are you talking about?" Gabrielle asked.

"For the last few years," Shilah said, "we've been waiting for it to arrive. We know something bad is going to come as a result of this Harmonic Convergence, and we were planning on doing a ritual to try and minimize the damage! If we know when that portal is going to open, then we can seal it before Alti makes it into this world!"

Gabrielle was looking at her and the first glimmer of hope kindled in her eyes.

"How did you find out about all this?" David asked. "Who told you?"

"The Stygian Witches," Gabrielle said. "They said they would put me in the right place, with plenty of time to prepare for Alti and reclaim the Stone. They also said I would meet someone with knowledge that would help me."

Everyone's mouths dropped open in surprise.

"Stygian Witches?" David asked. "You consulted the Stygian Witches?"

"Yes," Gabrielle nodded.

"Three blind old women who share a crystal eye, Stygian Witches?" David continued. "The ones that told Perseus how to kill Medusa, and then tried to eat him because they like the taste of human flesh, Stygian Witches?"

"How do you know about them?" Gabrielle asked in surprise.

David smiled and looked around the table at the others. "Remind me to rent the movie, Clash of the Titans before the end of this week." This elicited soft chuckles from the assembled crowd. Then he looked back at her. "How did you get out of there, once they told you what you needed to know?"

"It wasn't easy," Gabrielle replied, but she refused to elaborate.

"So," David said. "We need to deprive Alti of the energy she needs to make the change. If we do that, what happens to her? Here and then?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "I don't know."

"When is the event supposed to happen?" Shilah asked.

"The Witches said I would have until the full moon," Gabrielle replied.

"This coming Saturday," Katrina added. "Halloween night."

"Well, sounds like Halloween's on steroids this year," Tommy sighed. He leaned back and looked at her. "So, You think we could do it?"

"Do what?" Gabrielle asked.

"Shut Alti down before she gets into this world?" Tommy said.

"I don't know," Gabrielle shrugged. "It would take a shaman of great power to do what you're suggesting. I know I couldn't do it on my own."

"But you aren't on your own anymore," Debbie said with a smile.

Shilah nodded. "Gabrielle. Covens all over the world are going to be performing rituals similar to mine this full moon. Even if they don't know exactly when to do it, we'll still be able to draw on all that energy to stop it."

"Which reminds me," David said suddenly as he fished inside his jacket. "I think this might be handy."

He fished the amulet out of his pocket and held it up. Gabrielle and the others all gasped in astonishment.

"David," Shilah asked as she reached out and took the amulet from him. "Where did you get this?"

All eyes turned to him and he suddenly felt the desire to jump on Rosie and ride off into the darkness for a few hours. He shrugged nervously.

"Ares suggested I take it," he finally said uncomfortably.

"Ares!" Gabrielle stood up and looked down at him. "What do you have to do with him?"

"Whoa!" David blurted, his hands rising in surrender. "Nothing! I got nothing to do with him! He just sort of started popping up right after you arrived." He looked at Gabrielle. "In fact, it was right after you became fluent in English."

Tommy, seated across from them smiled and chuckled under his breath.

Gabrielle looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Tommy said, still grinning. "But when you're as into this as we are, you tend to notice otherworldly intervention when it hits you broadside like that. I just figured that the others didn't notice anything, so I kept my mouth shut."

"We've all known he's been following you around since you got here." Shilah said. "Even though I haven't been involved directly, I could feel the energy of his movements where my students are concerned." Then she looked sternly at David. "Even though I didn't expect one of them to confront him directly, I can't really say I'm surprised."

"For the record," David said, now feeling a bit defensive. "He confronted me. I didn't go looking for him."

"That's not the point," Shilah chided. "He got to you. Somehow he found a way."

"What did he give you?" Debbie asked.

"My ass," David said, now really defensive. He got up and took the bottle, walking toward the bar. "If we hadn't come to an understanding, they would have brought my carcass home in a body bag tonight!"

"Is that what you really believe?" Shilah asked evenly.

"You weren't there, Shilah!" David shot back. "That car rammed up my ass and would have spread me like a cheap coat of paint all over that road if Ares hadn't helped me! That's what saved my ass tonight! Not anything I did!"

"But why you?" Tommy asked. He shifted his bulky frame to look back at David.

David refilled his glass, placed the bottle of whiskey back on the shelf, turned and shrugged.

"I have no idea," David replied. "All I know is that he popped up one night, told me that Gabby, here, isn't exactly from this neck of the woods – duh - and we should all listen to what she has to say. After that, we had a little discussion about my survivability." He stopped suddenly.

Shilah looked at Gabrielle. "Well, we already know that Gabrielle is special, here. Did he give you anything useful?"

"You mean, besides Buns of Steel?" David asked, fishing for a beer bottle before he returned to the table. He set that bottle in front of Tommy and stood behind the sofa.

"Look," he continued, regaining his composure. "I don't know why he picked me out of everyone here, or what that thing is," he pointed at the amulet, sitting on the table. "Or how that thing works. I have no idea what Ares wants with me or what's going on."

"Um," Gabrielle said quietly. "That's probably my fault."

Jesse grinned. "Which part?"

Gabrielle looked over at her and smiled grimly.

"Ares has been a problem for me since long before Xena died." She said. "He seems to think he can use me for some end or other, though I've never been able to figure out what."

"What did he offer you?" Shilah asked her.

Gabrielle held her hands out helplessly. "He didn't say. He only said that he might want something earlier. When I get back home, but I don't know what that could be?"

"That's interesting," David added, seating himself again. "He told me to leave you alone when it came down to it." David shrugged again. "He said that you were the only one who could stop Alti, which was why you had been sent here."

"Well that just sounds lovely," Katrina said. "She drops into our laps and we can't help her."

"Alti was one of the most powerful shaman's I've ever seen," Gabrielle admitted. "If I'm the only one who's supposed to face her, I can't imagine that I'll win."

"So we're supposed to keep you alive long enough to get killed by this Alti character?" Jesse blurted out, clearly offended by the implications. "Here you are, help her out until it's time for her to take one for the team? That's a crock!"

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" Katrina added.

David listened as the argument grew. His own thoughts pulled him inward and the voices faded into the background as his own conscience began to roar. He looked over at Gabrielle, sitting like a condemned person, resigned to her apparent fate. He could feel something building up within him. It felt like a wave of fire, only it wasn't rage or fury, though the expression of it was very much like rage. He sat and stewed as he watched the others speaking aloud, but he never heard a thing.

His gaze settled back on Gabrielle, sitting quietly, completely still, lost in her own thoughts. Or perhaps just plain lost?

He stood up with a suddenness that brought the whole table to startled silence and he headed towards the door to the garage.

"Hey!" Tommy called after him. "Where are you going?"

"I need some air," David said hoarsely.

"Well, you ain't getting it on two wheels," Tommy ordered. "Keys." He held out his hand expectantly.

David opened his mouth to argue. Instead, he reached into his pocket and drew out the keys to his bike, tossing them onto the table with a clatter. It was a deliberate snub at Tommy, one that he took gracefully.

"I'll walk," David growled, and he stomped out of the room.

Shilah watched him depart and felt the waves of energy wafting from him like an actual breeze.

"Excuse me," she said firmly. Everyone fell silent. She looked at Gabrielle. "Wait a few minutes and then follow me out in front of the barn."

"Why?" Gabrielle asked.

"Just trust me," Shilah said with a smug smile. "I know that look." She rose and followed after David.

"Ares always says that," Gabrielle commented doubtfully.

Shilah found David pacing up and down alongside the front of the barn, his cigar clenched tightly between his teeth. He paused when Shilah emerged.

"What are you doing?" Shilah asked.

David sighed. "Contemplating fresh meanings for the statement 'helpless as a baby', why?"

"You seem a bit distracted, that's all," Shilah answered smoothly. "Want to tell me about it?"

David's intense stare fixed on Shilah for a moment, and then he shrugged.

"It seems that I'm destined to watch people I care about be taken from me," he finally said.

Shilah leaned back against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.

"This isn't about Gabrielle," she said. "This about Lizzy, and about you."

"So what if it is?" David shot back. He resumed his pacing. "Nine years, Shilah! Nine! And then the cancer hits and I have to sit there and watch her just – wither away to nothing! She weighed seventy pounds when she finally went! Seventy! I could lift her off the damn bed with one arm!"

David slumped back against the wall and sighed. "And there wasn't shit I could do about it."

"It wasn't from lack of trying," Shilah said gently. "It simply wasn't meant to be. I thought you understood that?"

"Understood, yes," David retorted. "Accepted, no. At least, not gracefully."

He waved his hand up towards the interior of the building. "And now, this!"

"Gabrielle," Shilah said.

"Yeah," David replied. "Another person that I'm fond of, and she's about to get whacked!" He drew a vehement hand across his throat. "And I'm not supposed to do anything about it? It's bullshit, Shilah. Total bullshit!"

He smiled grimly. "I've got enough money to live the rest of my life any way I want to, but it's cost me everyone I loved. What the hell kind of trade off is that?"

He took a long drag off the cigar and sighed. "I must be the only son of a bitch that can have this much dumb luck in one lifetime." Then he looked at Shilah and there was a hint of desperation in his eyes.

"You aren't lost," Shilah replied. "But I think it's time for you to stop hiding how you truly feel."

"About?" David asked.

"Gabrielle," Shilah said in motherly fashion.

"Oh Christ," David exclaimed. "Between you and Debbie. What the hell are you two doing?"

"David," Shilah said gently. "I love you to death. You're like another son to me, but Lizzy's been gone for six years now. You need to move on. Perhaps that's the reason Gabrielle was sent to us, here, in this moment. Have you ever considered that?"

"Look," David continued. "As a full blooded, card carrying, paid up Hound Dog, I have, but as much as it would be nice, I doubt if anything could ever happen between us. I accept that."

"But a part of you still wants it to," Shilah fixed him with a stern stare.

"Not anymore," David said automatically and then he saw the expression on Shilah's face. It was the one she always had when she knew he was trying to lie.

"Well, fine," he finally admitted. "Yes, I think it would be nice, and yes I am curious, and yes, I have thought about it. And YES, I do like her, and YES I find her incredibly attractive, and YES, I AM A MALE! I AM LOW BY NATURE AND GENETICALLY PROGRAMMED TO THINK THIS WAY!" He shouted the last bit at the top of his lungs, hearing his voice echo in the nearby trees and then he looked back at Shilah, his annoyance spent.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" He finished with feigned civility.

"So," Shilah said quietly. "If she were to offer herself to you, you would accept?"

"Yes!" He said and then quickly. "I mean, no. I mean, I don't know. It depends on the circumstances! Ah dammit Shilah, what does this have to do with anything?"

"You have to be completely focused if this is to work. You cannot be distracted by anything." Shilah said seriously. "Right now, you are distracted. VERY distracted."

"Oh, come on," David replied. "It's kind of hard not to be 'distracted', Shilah. I like talking with her. I like the sound of her voice or the sound of her laugh. She's got a great smile." A realization began to set in and his voice dropped in astonishment. "I've gotten used to having her around." He finished quietly, as if that final admission had made everything jumbled in his heart and mind fall right into place.

"Go on," Shilah said. "Tell me why you haven't said anything to her?"

"Oh, give me a break," David groaned. "I just met the girl for crying out loud! I don't want to come off like a lovesick puppy, or worse, like I'm trying to take advantage –" He stopped when Gabrielle stepped out into the cool evening moonlight.

David closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Shit. How long have you been standing there?" He asked Gabrielle.

"Long enough," Gabrielle said softly.

David's whole face turned a brilliant crimson color. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. He fixed Shilah with a dark stare.

"This was never going to be about the Convergence, was it?" he asked his mentor. She merely smiled and shook her head. "This was a setup."

"Yes," she said. "This was about dealing with distractions and getting everything out in the open. Just the way you like to handle everything else in your life. Up front, no bullshit."

Shilah smiled as she moved towards the open barn door. "Well, it's all on the table now?" She arched her eyebrows and smiled.

"That was wrong on so many levels," David said angrily. "You know that?"

Shilah merely shrugged. "I'll leave the two of you alone now. I think you have a few things to discuss."

David looked at Gabrielle. She, in turn, stared back at him. Neither one of them said anything for a long awkward moment.

Then they opened their mouths and spoke at the same time, stopped, started again, stopped again, and laughed nervously.

"Christ," David rubbed his head. "I feel like I'm back in High School, asking a girl to the prom."

Gabrielle smiled. "What's a prom?"

"Its kind of a dinner and dancing session for wannabe grownups," David replied.

Gabrielle smiled and nodded. Then her face sobered. "Thank you." She said.

That statement surprised David.

"What for?"

"A lot of things," Gabrielle said. "For not leaving me on the road that night. For saving my life tonight. For not trying to take advantage of me when you found me. It means a lot."

David shrugged the compliment away. "It was nothing."

Gabrielle saw the pain in his eyes for the first time. "You loved her very much," she said knowingly.

David smiled grimly. "Yes I did. I still do. We met, fell in love real fast, and never fell out of it again. No one in the whole bunch of us was more surprised than I was when it didn't end."

"Why?" Gabrielle asked.

"We were so different," David said. "I was this big, leather bound biker, working the door at a local bar, and she was this little well-to-do girl from a fine upstanding family. We were worlds apart." He held his hands up helplessly. "Somehow, we just – " he brought his hands together, lacing his fingers. "I don't know how it happened. It could have been that first night; it could have been a month into it? All I know is that we loved each other's company."

David slid down to the ground and stared out into the mass of tangled trees. "I can't remember having a conversation like those for years," he looked up at her suddenly. "Until you showed up."

Gabrielle smiled.

David suddenly looked away. "I just don't want to get so wrapped up in you, and then discover I was only looking for a ghost. Does that make any sense?"

Gabrielle settled down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Yes, it does," she said. "I don't want to get attached either, just because I'm on my own for the first time in my life."

"Scary, isn't it?" David mused.

"Gives me the woodies," Gabrielle replied.

David paused for a moment, and then laughed out loud.

"Willies," he corrected her. "It gives you the willies."

Gabrielle frowned in confusion and looked up at him.

"Then what's a woody?"

David laughed again, feeling the tension ease in waves. "I'll tell you some other time."

TBC

24


	7. Discoveries, Deceptions, and Diguises

**Discoveries, Deceptions, and Disguises**

They sat in the cool night air, staring up into the starry sky and simply talking. The conversation carried no particular purpose or subject, they simply talked.

As the time passed, the subjects became more personal and the conversation covered the entire gambit of emotions, from joy to sorrow and all points in between.

The two of them each began to realize the commonalities they shared with the other. A sense of honor and desire for knowledge was at the heart of both of their beliefs. Another was their feelings of compassion and respect for not just each other, but the world in general and the people in it, though Gabrielle's world was a touch more naïve compared to the modern, cutthroat turmoil of the present day. Those differences in culture also played a large part in their conversation.

For Gabrielle, she enjoyed David's no-nonsense honesty. He spoke his mind directly, and by doing so, Gabrielle immediately understood where she might stand in any given set of circumstances. She also enjoyed his philosophical side. He had a way of looking at the world that she had never experienced before. David called it "thinking outside the box".

David was enthralled by the way Gabrielle related the events of her life. It was the detail with which she would recall those events and the almost childish innocence that would shine, like a light, in her eyes as she reminisced that enthralled him. There was a fire within her as well, something deep and mysterious, that he was hard pressed to resist. He felt drawn to her in a way that he had never experienced before, even with his late wife. It was the same attraction, but then also different somehow. There were times that he didn't even hear the words. He simply enjoyed the sound of her voice speaking in his ear. He was in the midst of one of those reveries when suddenly, she stopped. David looked down and saw her eyes fixed on a point in the sky.

Then he heard the sound, so familiar in its low rumble. He looked up and saw the flashing red lights of the plane moving lazily across the dark sky. He smiled.

"What is that?" she asked in awe.

David smiled. "An airplane."

"What?"

"A flying machine," David said simply. "A mode of transportation."

"It looks so small," Gabrielle tried to see the details of the dark image.

"That's because it's about thirty thousand feet in the air," he chuckled. Then he smiled a somewhat mischievous smile.

"Want to see one up close?" he asked, his eyebrows bounced.

Gabrielle nodded.

"Come on."

They went around back and hopped into David's large pickup truck. The diesel engine rumbled to life and the big dark metallic blue beast crawled around and out to the main drive. As they did, Tommy came out.

"And just where are you two going?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"To show her something," David replied. "I'll let you guys do the figuring on this one."

"You realize that she's being looked for," Tommy said.

"Yeah, on the back of a motorcycle," David countered. "No one will see her in Caroline, here."

He raised the deeply smoked window slightly.

"See, tinted glass," he said. "We'll be fine."

"And where are you going?"

David sighed.

"Well, dad," he said. "I was hoping to take Gabrielle, here, to the airport." He smiled.

"I promise to have her home before midnight."

Tommy also began to grin.

"Shakespeare," he said. "It's one thirty?"

David put the truck in gear.

"I never said which day," he commented, and the window slid up as the big Silverado coasted up the drive and turned onto the main street.

Tommy just stood there and watched them go, smiling. He turned and went back into the garage, chuckling to himself.

"Oh yeah," he said with a smile. "That boy is hooked."

It took most of the night before Alti and Finch found the small rural township that most of the Zombie Squad called home. Once within the realm of possibility, however, the spread out arrangement of the area, along with the lack of adequate signage on most of the smaller, less traveled roads, soon had them wandering aimlessly down deserted farm roads and more than one occasional long driveway. After several hours of this, Finch lost his patience.

"This is a complete waste of time," He blurted. "Even if we knew where they were, it could take days before we would find them, unless we make some inquiries?"

"That would mean being seen and potentially identified," Alti said with uncommon patience. "Just keep driving. We'll find them. I have other means."

She closed her eyes and stretched out with her mind, seeking that unusual energy that belonged to her prey. Almost instantly, she caught it, like a bloodhound detecting a faint, elusive scent.

"Stop the car!" she barked.

Finch responded instantly, and the car halted at the side of the road.

Alti stepped out and closed her eyes again, feeling the energy around her. She found that unusual fragment, like an apple sitting at the top of a basket of oranges.

She turned and faced that energy.

"She's that way," she said in a hoarse hiss. Her eyes snapped open, looking back down the road. The trees stretched their limbs over the paved surface forming a long, skeletal tunnel into the shadows. She smiled.

"We have them," she growled.

Almost as soon as she said the words, the energy began moving away.

"No," she whispered, her eyes going hard again. "No, no, no," she slipped quickly back into the passenger seat. There was no way that they could sense her presence. The little bard was never that good.

"Turn the car around!" she ordered as she dove back into the car. "They're going that way!"

The black sedan spat rocks from its rear tires as it spun around and roared down the street.

Alti focused upon the energy, trying to home in on it, to see that meddling girl in her mind's eye.

"Where are you, you little bitch?" She muttered under her breath.

Her mind launched itself skyward, searching the horizon for that one illusive candle of life that was Gabrielle. Off in the distance she could see it, flickering like a pale white star. Her mind raced over the trees after it, seeing the pickup truck rumbling down the deserted road towards the highway. It was a large dark behemoth on six wheels.

"There you are," Alti's mind hissed. She willed herself closer. "I must see you! Hear you!"

Her mind descended to the bed of the truck, and up towards the opaque rear window. She heard the sound of music from within, mingled with two voices in casual conversation.

Slowly, she penetrated the exterior and beheld what lay within.

There they were. The bard on her right and the stranger on her left. She dared not try and warp the bard's mind with her growing powers. Not yet. She still needed the young bard in tact in order to assure her return. This man, however, would be another story. She would twist his mind like putty and mold it into something she could manipulate.

Her soul radiated with dark glee as she moved closer to his ear. Suddenly, she was in his mind, and darkness swallowed her perception.

It was an interesting and uncommon experience for her. Usually she would discover unprotected thoughts, or subdued emotions that she could tap. In this man's case, there was nothing evident. There was only a quick flash of awareness that was immediately quelled. Either this man was nothing more than an automaton, or he had a remarkably well trained mind. She felt her confidence began to dwindle.

A light formed somewhere above her, pale and cold, like the moon slowly peeking from behind a thick wall of clouds.

What she took as shadows about her slowly dissolved themselves into lines, black and jagged, weaving an endless pattern in dry, desolate earth. The view stretched out to the horizon, shimmering in silvery light. There was nothing to be seen except the dry, flat land, distant gentle rolling dunes, and nearby, a single, ancient, withered black tree of massive proportions. Its naked branches clawed skyward like the bones of a buried hand, trying to wrench itself free. Somewhere among the heavy clouds, there was a flash of pale light. A few moments later, thunder rolled softly across the plain like a growl from some devilish beast.

Alti suddenly felt uneasy about this place. She turned about, in essence to withdraw her spirit from this mans' mind, only to discover that she could not. Her anxiety rose to something she was unaccustomed to – fear. That sensation quickly angered her, washing the fear away.

David and Gabrielle both ceased talking at the same moment and looked at each other.

"Did you just feel that?" Gabrielle asked in a hush.

David merely held up one finger and then swerved to the side of the road and stopped the truck. He put the truck in PARK and closed his eyes. Gabrielle watched as a myriad of emotions crossed his face in a matter of moments, and then something like absolute calm replaced it. His head rose to a neutral position and his breathing slowed. In a matter of moments, David had managed to place himself in a state of trance. Gabrielle stared at him in wonder.

His fingers uncurled from the steering wheel and came to rest several inches above his lap, palms down and still. He was completely motionless.

Gabrielle felt the shiver of the intrusive presence emanating from him.

"Alti," she breathed, suddenly feeling more alone than she ever had before in her life. She knew that David needed help combating this assault upon his soul. She composed herself and tried to relax. Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed as she tried to sink into the same state of mental calm so she might go in and help him.

It seemed to take an eternity before she felt that simple sensation of ethereal release. She moved, like a wraith, towards David, only to be stopped by some invisible barrier. It knocked her back into her own body and effectively woke her back up. She blinked and looked at him in wonder.

"David?"

Alti turned in a slow circle. "Show yourself!" She cried out in challenge. "I know you're here!"

"Of course I'm here. Where else should I be?" a voice replied coolly. It was low, gentle and deep. And it came from behind her. "Welcome to my mind."

Turning, she saw the figure of a man, hidden in shadow. His outline was lean and muscular, with broad shoulders and powerful legs. The arms were crossed over his muscular chest, but his face was hidden behind a shadow of long dark hair. Only his eyes could be seen, glinting in the pale light of the ghost moon.

"I belong here," he continued easily. "You, on the other hand, are a different matter." Alti saw something in those eyes that gave her pause. They were dark, and yet shone with an unnatural light, filled with confidence. They were fixed on her with primal intensity, challenging her.

"You think you could pit your will against mine?" she mocked him. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know what you are," the man replied, and she saw the glimmer of teeth as he smiled. "You're a library book that someone forgot to return. You're a myth, a story to frighten small children. You are an anachronism, and you have no place here!"

He stepped forward and Alti saw the same man from her memory, and yet not the same. He was older in the eyes, yet younger in the body at the same time. His arms dropped to his sides, hands twitching in anticipation.

"But, since you are here," he continued, "tell me, what do you want?"

Alti realized that trying to intimidate this man would be a fruitless venture. Best to try another approach.

"I want the girl," she said hungrily. "I want Gabrielle! And I want the Amulet that you stole from me!"

The man stroked his beard for a moment, as if he were actually considering her offer, then he smiled the most self reliant, mocking smile she had ever seen.

"Um, no," he finished flatly. "Anything else?"

"You shall give her to me, or I will take her from you, and your soul with hers!" Alti growled.

The mocking grin faded and was replaced with a look so sinister that Alti couldn't remember ever seeing the like of it before. Again she felt that unfamiliar twinge of fear.

"Let me lay this out for you, Alti," the man said, and she started to hear her name. "Yes, I know who you are," he added quickly. "You are in _my_ mind, right now, attempting to dominate me, and failing quite miserably, if I may say?"

"There isn't a soul in the world that I cannot bend to my will!" Alti replied, her confidence growing. "Yours included!"

"Girl," the man said with a laugh. "The world has been trying to turn me into a well behaved little robot for over thirty years, and you think you can do it in one night?"

The thunder rolled, louder now, as if a storm were approaching. Alti stared at this figure again and saw, as well as felt the waves of power pulsing from the figure.

She reached out, sending a wave of energy straight at the figure. He merely held his hand out to receive it and she watched as it hit his outstretched palm, stayed and slowly faded, absorbing itself into his form. He shrugged.

"You'll have to do better than that, Shamaness," he scoffed. "You've dominated sheep for far too long. You've forgotten what it's like to hunt the wolf."

"Wolf!" Alti cackled. "Is that how you see yourself!"

The man's head dropped and his eyes stared at her with predatory calculation.

"**_I am!"_** His voice reverberated, low and demonic, across the barren landscape, deeper than the rolling thunder that came in to meet it. The ground shook beneath her feet.

The lightning flashed across the sky over him, and in those brief flashes of light, Alti beheld the face of her opponent. His eyes were deep and shining, his face defined and chiseled, framed in dark whiskers, and his mouth was twisted in a cruel savage grin.

He looked like a wolf.

"You will be mine!" Alti screamed at him, but her voice had an uncharacteristic shrillness to it that this man seemed to relish.

She lashed out at him with everything she had, only to watch it be absorbed into this figure like water into the dry earth. He rocked back and forth from the attack, but his head was turned up, not in agony, but in rapture.

When she stopped, he looked back at her, with hungry eyes. He shook his shaggy head and laughed.

"Oh yeah!" he bellowed. "Come on! Hit me again! Let me see what you got!"

She was flabbergasted. Her energy seemed to have fed him, not harmed him. It had also weakened her. She was still vulnerable until the Joining of the Heavens. Already, the loss of her energy had made it possible for the impotent Professor Klaus to begin to reassert control. She forced the subservient persona back into the darkness and fixed her eyes on the figure before her.

"What are you?" she cried.

The figure smiled at her and then seemed to melt into the barren ground.

"Me?" that voice said from directly behind her. She wheeled and felt his hands grasp the front of her clothing, pulling her nose to nose with him. His eyes burned with ravenous intensity, and his face was bunched up into a malicious snarl.

"I'm the nightmare your momma warned you about!" He growled. Then he shoved her back with such force that she slid across the rough ground for several yards before coming to a halt. She sat up and looked at him in amazement.

"You know? This has been a lot of fun. Really, it has," he said with mock civility. "But I think it's time for you to go."

She felt the hair on her body stand up as the static energy around her built to explosive levels in a matter of instants. There was a blinding pale green flash and the world became one exploration in the deepest pain imaginable. She felt the energy of her spirit shredding in the onslaught.

Alti convulsed in the passenger seat and slammed herself back against the backrest with a cry of agony. She blinked and saw Finch staring at her in concern.

Alti struggled to regain her composure, while at the same time attempting to convince her mind that she was not burning, even though she felt the heat in every pore. She was blind. She could see nothing but the reality of the world before her. Her senses, her fix on Gabrielle, were momentarily blasted. She set her trembling hands on her knees and tried to control the shaking that came over her.

"Alti?" Mr. Finch asked. "Are you alright?"

Alti looked at him with as much menace as she could muster. It didn't work.

"I've lost her," she admitted. "Just find us a place to stay. I must rest."

David's eyes blinked and he took in a long shuddering breath. The suddenness of the action made Gabrielle jump in fright.

"I tried to get in and help –" she started, then she saw the look on David's pale face.

"Wow," he breathed shakily. "That hurt." And he toppled sideways into her lap.

Gabrielle cradled his head in her arms as he lay, unconscious, her eyes looked out the windows at the surrounding shadows. There was nothing but the gentle swaying of the trees in the moonlit night. Behind her, she saw the glow of approaching headlights and she ducked down low in the seat.

"David?" she whispered as the vehicle approached. "David, wake up."

She watched the black sedan coast past the truck and continue down the road into the darkness. Somehow, Gabrielle knew that Alti was in that car and she had just made one of the narrowest escapes in her entire life.

"We have to get out of here," she whispered nervously. Her eyes settled on the various controls for the vehicle. Her mind raced as she considered trying to operate them. The pedal on the right made you go, the one on the left made you stop. The big wheel was to turn? In a moment of panic she actually considered attempting to drive "Caroline". She had observed David and the principles seemed simple enough? They had to get out of there. If Alti had found him that quickly, she had to be close – very close! Her eyes considered the river seat for a while longer. "I can do this," she began to say. She kept repeating it to herself as she looked at the various dials and gauges. Her brows furrowed as she read them. Finally, with a quick glance through the rear window, she sighed.

"No," she finally concluded. "It's probably not as easy as it looks." She continued her search. This time her eyes fell on the small cell phone in David's breast pocket. She took it out and pulled it open. The tiny keys lit up and the small screen flashed.

How had David done this? She thought tentatively, she held the device up to the side of her head and said timidly.

"Call Tommy."

Nothing happened. She waited a few tense moments as her mind whirled. What was it they called Tommy? She thought furiously until the name clicked.

"Call Papa Bear," she said again. This time there was a soft click, several rapid beeps, and the reassuring sound of the phone ringing.

Another sharp click and then a cheerful voice sounded in her ear, "Yo, Shakes, what happened? You run out of gas?"

"Tommy?" Gabrielle asked, still not sure how this thing was working.

"Gabs?" Tommy's voice became more serious. "What are you doing on the phone?"

"Something's happened to David!" Gabrielle said quickly, feeling the nervous energy rushing out of her, now that she had someone she could communicate with. "Alti tried to overwhelm him. I think he's okay, but I don't know! He's unconscious!"

"Take it easy, now," Tommy's voice soothed. "Just stay calm. Where are you?"

"I don't know," Gabrielle admitted. "Not far from you, I think, but I don't know the roads."

"Okay, okay," Tommy said, and she could sense that he was moving. "Describe what you see. Or anything you passed in the last few minutes."

Gabrielle did so, as best she could. But, she had been so engrossed in their conversation that she hadn't been paying much attention as to the direction they were heading, or any potential landmarks. Tommy relayed the shaky directions and there was finally a consensus.

"Okay," he said. "We're on our way! Just sit tight!"

Gabrielle put the phone on the dashboard and looked down at David's face. He was breathing softly, but was still completely unresponsive.

After what seemed a short eternity, David's left fingers twitched and he gave a soft groan. His eyes opened and looked up at her concerned face. He winced even as he tried to smile at her.

"Moving kind of fast on me, aren't you?" he asked hoarsely. His left hand reached weakly for the steering wheel. He groaned again in pain as he pulled himself back up. Then he fumbled for the door release and stumbled out of the truck and against the front fender, breathing hard.

"Too much," he hissed in pain. "Too much."

"David?" Gabrielle got out and ran around to him. She stood before him in case he fell over again. "What happened?"

David's eyes were filled with internal agony as he looked about him. Close by was a massive old oak tree.

"Come to papa," he groaned, and he stumbled over towards it. He dropped to his knees in front of it, with Gabrielle right behind him.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

David merely placed his hands on the roughened bark and let his eyes close tightly. Gabrielle watched in amazement, as pulses of greenish gold energy seemed to flow from David's fingers into the massive tree and vanish into the ground. She felt the power course through the earth beneath her feet.

David's teeth were clenched from the effort of releasing everything that he had received in his mental duel of a short while before.

The energy pulsed faster and faster as he let his low groan of pain build to a rising cry of agony. Then he simply fell back onto the soft, cool earth and lay still.

Gabrielle knelt over him, her fingers brushing the long hair out of his face.

"David?" she asked timidly.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm just counting my bones." He smiled wearily. "I think I just ground a quarter inch of enamel off my teeth."

"What happened?" Gabrielle asked.

"Alti tried to overcome my will," David whispered. "She's got a lot of juice for an old lady." He shuddered as the last of the invasive power left his mind. "Had to get it all out of my system. Had to ground myself."

He looked up at her and smiled again. "Man, you're cute when you get nervous."

"I'm-" she stammered. She looked into his eyes and realized that he was there, completely and wholly, albeit exhaustedly. The sound of a loud engine could be heard in the distance and another truck crunched to a stop behind David's.

Debbie, Shilah, and Tommy all emerged.

"What happened?" Shilah asked as they approached.

David rolled over heavily and looked up at them, then at Gabrielle. "Slick, Gabby. Real slick."

Shilah knelt next to David, looking into his eyes.

"Tell me," Shilah said.

David recounted the entire incident all the way up to the point he lost consciousness, at which time, Gabrielle finished the story.

Shilah listened carefully and nodded. She smiled down at David.

"That was incredibly brave," she said. "Also, incredibly stupid." Then she smiled at him. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah," David replied as he slowly rose to his feet. "I'm impressed too."

"Well," Debbie said. "At least she didn't get a fix on the clubhouse. That's something."

"Yes," Shilah agreed. "And once we get back, I'm going to have to make sure she can't." She looked up at Tommy. "You said the Ritual Room was ready?"

"Whenever you are," Tommy nodded.

Shilah gave a nod. "Tommy, take our hero, here, back to the clubhouse to rest. Debbie, the girls and I will need to do some work." Shilah turned back to Gabrielle. "Would you ride with us, please? I need to speak with you."

"Alright," Gabrielle agreed reluctantly. She would rather have stayed with David.

Tommy helped David over to Caroline and seated him in the passenger side, and then he got in and fired up the diesel. The big blue truck swung easily around, followed by his own large brown Ford.

Gabrielle looked out the window at the back of David's truck, biting her lip.

Finally she couldn't help it. "Where did he learn how to do that?" she asked, looking over at Shilah.

"Which part?" Shilah asked.

"He went into trance faster than anyone I've ever seen before," she said. "And when I finally went in, he kept me out. He faced Alti all alone and apparently won."

"He barely won," Shilah nodded. Then she looked at Gabrielle for a moment. "David has been rather an enigma for us." She thought for a few moments. "One thing I am certain of: he is a natural Blood Witch. His abilities are handed down to him through his family. We simply don't know which family it is."

"I don't understand?" Gabrielle asked.

"David was adopted by his late parents. There was no information about who his birth parents were. Just a few out of date files with very little information. All his life, he's had a different view of the world. As he grew up, he instinctively began to train himself to use the abilities that he has. Before meeting us ten years ago, he was a solitary practitioner, though he didn't know it himself. The idea of being a witch had never entered his mind."

"If he didn't know what he was, how did he manage to learn what he learned?"

Debbie leaned up from the back seat. "Trial and error, mostly." She added, "With the emphasis on error." She grinned. "Remember Barry's basement?"

Shilah's smile widened and she laughed. "Yes, that was a rather large cleanup."

Gabrielle looked back and forth at them.

Shilah smiled. "David instinctually knew that he had to train his mind to be able to control the things that he did. So, at a very early age, he enrolled in the martial studies. Tai Chi, Kempo, Karate, Aikido, Tai Kwon Do, and a few other more esoteric ones. That was where he learned to focus and clear his mind. He was able to do that when he sensed Alti's invasion of his mind. It's also where he learned to control energy, for the most part. All of those disciplines stressed a need for meditation in a private 'sacred space'. Well, when he lived with an acquaintance of mine, he turned his entire basement room into that 'sacred space' just by the power of his mind. Barry's wife often commented to me about how she could go into his room and all the noise of the house above would simply vanish. She also felt the energy in the place."

"Well," Debbie added. "David stayed with them for a year before he moved on again. That was when the fun really started."

"David had unknowingly opened a portal in that room. One that allowed him to absorb the energy he needed in his martial studies. However, when he left, he did not know that he had to shut that portal. So, a few weeks after he moved out, all manner of strange things began to happen."

"Shilah and the rest of us had to go in and clean up the spiritual mess," Debbie said, still smiling. "Took us nearly five days to do it. He had completely saturated the place with his energy."

"It was at that point that I realized," Shilah went on, "I needed to find this man."

"Problem was," Debbie added, "he was gone. Poof!" She held a hand up.

"He reappeared two years later, in a book store run by another acquaintance of mine, and this time, we seized the opportunity."

"His parents had only recently passed on," Shilah continued. "He was just getting himself situated. He was married at the time and living in the area. I took him on as a student and watched as the realization of everything he had been looking for just began to fall into place. He buried himself in the study of the craft, finding all the missing pieces he had been searching for and I watched in amazement as his abilities began to grow exponentially. Then Lizzy passed away and he withdrew for a long time. He finally came back about five years ago and we've been a close knit little family for him ever since."

"He's been as much for all of us," Debbie finished. "I swear, if I were ten years younger, and single," she sighed. Then she looked at Gabrielle. "You care about him, don't you?"

Gabrielle was suddenly taken aback.

Debbie shook her head and grinned. "Do yourself a big favor, young lady," she said. She pointed at the back of 'Caroline' and nodded. "Grab onto that man and keep him. You'd never find another one as good as he is."

Gabrielle felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and she laughed nervously.

"Debbie," Shilah said. "There are other things to be concerned with before you start playing at matchmaker again." Then she looked at Gabrielle. "Like you, and how this Alti character was able to home in on you as she did."

"What can I do about that?" Gabrielle asked.

Shilah smiled a sly smile. "You need to learn how to change the aura that surrounds you. You have to be able to manipulate the energy that makes you, you."

"Ah," Gabrielle nodded. "And how do I do that?"

"One thing at a time, baby," Debbie said mysteriously. "One thing at a time." She looked up as the clubhouse came into view. The two trucks coasted around back and parked.

Once they were all back in the main room, Shilah spoke.

"Tommy, would you entertain our guest for the time being?"

Tommy nodded. "My pleasure."

Shilah looked at David, now fidgeting with nervous energy. "And make sure he takes the time to meditate and get himself back in balance?"

Tommy's smile melted. "So much for the 'pleasure' part."

"Ha, ha," David grinned.

"Girls, we have some business downstairs." They all rose and vanished through the door.

Tommy also rose and went behind the bar into the kitchen. He began mixing a large bowl of salt with various other herbs.

"Hey! Shakespeare!" he shouted. "Don't give me no lip! Get some rest!"

David nodded. "I will." He looked at Gabrielle. "Eventually."

Gabrielle nodded and smiled.

David produced a key from within his jacket and then went down the hall, unlocking the door directly across from Gabrielle's room. He gave her a tired wink and vanished within.

Tommy came out a few minutes later with his dry mixture and jerked his head.

"Come on," he offered.

They began a slow circuit of the property, pouring the mixture on the earth as they walked.

"What are you doing?" Gabrielle asked.

"Sealing this place," Tommy replied. "Making sure no unwanted visitors come nosing about."

Gabrielle nodded. "I understand." Then she looked up at the big man. "So, how long have you been a Sha- uh, Witch?"

Tommy smiled and nodded at his preferred title. "Just a few years, nowhere near as long as the others."

"And what's your specialty?" Gabrielle asked.

Tommy smiled. "Potions, lotions, herbs, and oils," he replied. "I'll mix up a batch of something that can cure whatever ails you."

They continued, discussing various plants and their properties. As they came around to the back of the building, they saw David, standing in the middle of a large clear patch near the forest.

Tommy put a hand on Gabrielle's shoulder before she could say anything.

"Just leave him be," he whispered. "He's doing what he was told to do, more or less."

"Shilah told him to rest!" Gabrielle protested.

"She also told him to get his balance back," Tommy added. "That's what he's doing. This is where all that Kung Fu shit blends in nicely with what we do."

"How?"

Tommy pointed at him. "Just watch. I've gotta finish this. I'll be back in a few minutes." Then he continued on, scattering his mixture, and vanished into the shadows.

Gabrielle slipped up next to a large tree, hiding in the shadows and feeling a little guilty about this unperceived intrusion.

Though the air was cold, he stood in the moonlight wearing only a loose fitting pair of pants. His upper body shone in the pale moonlight, muscular and defined. His hands were resting palm to palm before him, and his eyes were closed as if in prayer.

Gabrielle could see his breath smoking from his nostrils in soft faint wisps and his chest moved slowly and easily. She began to realize something else. Though he was there, before her, plain as day, she could not sense him. It was like she were beholding some kind of statue, not a man. Her eyes simply drank in the sight of him, statuesque and beautiful in the moonlight. Then, slowly and deliberately, David began to move.

It was like watching a dance in slow motion. David stretched his hands out before him, then back in, then off to one side or the other, and finally he began to slowly move about the clearing. The entire time, his eyes remained closed.

As Gabrielle watched, she began to realize that the movement was not only a form of meditation, it was a form of combat as well. She could see the strikes and the blocks; the kicks and throws all melded into a fluid dance of action that began to pick up speed.

He moved faster and faster, though his physical exertion was unchanged, and then, just as it had built, it began to slow back down until he ended up in precisely the same place he had begun. His hands before him, eyes closed.

Gabrielle stared at him in wonder. Then his eyes flicked open and stared at her.

Suddenly, he was there again, his entire being and he perceived her, standing concealed in the shadows.

She caught her breath.

David's eyes shone in the moonlight and a smile played at his lips. His hands dropped to his sides and he bowed at the waist, his eyes never leaving hers.

At the base of the bow, he winked. Then he rose, turned and strode back towards the building.

She was getting ready to leave, feeling like she had just intruded on a very private moment when he stopped and picked up something. He returned to the center of the clearing, now holding a long slender staff of dark wood.

A quarterstaff! Now this was something she knew about! Her guilt vanished and was replaced by her insatiable curiosity.

David resumed his stance of a moment before and then he began again, this time with the staff as part of the action.

Gabrielle watched in fascination as he spun the weapon this way and that, moving it in ways that she had never seen her Amazon teachers use. She watched him with rapt attention, suddenly not caring if he saw her. A part of her wanted to join him, but she held herself in check.

Again the exercise sped up and wound down until it came to a halt. David drove the narrow point of the staff into the soft earth. Then Tommy appeared at the top of the steps leading into the common room.

"Shakes!" he barked. "You're supposed to be resting! Don't make me open a can!"

David smiled and looked up at Tommy. "Open a can, huh?"

"You know I will!" Tommy replied. "And after you try and whup my ass, Shilah will have a few things to say to you about it!"

"Alright, alright," David conceded. He jogged up the steps and vanished into the building. Tommy looked down at the clearing and saw Gabrielle come out of the shadows. He grinned.

"Quite the show off, ain't he?" he called down to her.

Gabrielle smiled and waived at him, then followed up the steps and into the building. She paused at the end of the hall, looking down at David's door, and then she sat down at the bar and waited.

Before long, Debbie, Jesse, Katrina, and Shilah came up from the shop level and motioned Tommy and Gabrielle to join them at the large sofas.

"Is it done?" Shilah asked knowingly. Tommy nodded.

"Then this place is now protected." Shilah finished, breathing a sigh of relief. Then she looked at Gabrielle.

"Now," she said, producing the amulet and handing it to her. "What do you make of this?"

Gabrielle took it, and immediately, one of the four crystals began to pulse with internal fire. Gabrielle almost dropped it in surprise.

"Cool," Katrina murmured, leaning forward. "What's that mean?"

Tommy reached over and took it from Gabrielle, only to have the light within the amulet fade. "Means it will only work for her," he said. Then he frowned. "Looks like a compass, like on a map." He turned it thoughtfully. "You know, North, South, East, West?" he handed it back to Gabrielle, only to see it begin to glow again.

"A compass that only works for you," Tommy finished.

"Why does it only work for her?" Jesse asked.

Shilah frowned thoughtfully. "Gabrielle," she asked. "You told us that you were sent here to retrieve the Chronos Stone and return it to the past?"

"Yes, but I don't know where the stone will be?" Gabrielle replied.

"What if?" Tommy was thinking out loud. Then he rose and went to the bar, rummaging about in a storage cabinet. He drew out a folded map and began to spread it across the floor. It was a wall-sized depiction of the entire state of Illinois.

"Gabby, come here a sec," Tommy instructed.

Gabrielle stood at the foot of the massive map and stared down at it questioningly. Many of the lines had been highlighted and small noted accompanied them, indicating routes to different destinations.

"What are those?" Gabrielle asked.

"We highlighted and noted the main charity runs that happen throughout the year. Green for spring, yellow for summer, orange for fall, and blue for winter. As you can see, there ain't much to do in the wintertime." He shrugged. "But that's not why I brought this out."

"I get it," Jesse said, grinning. "You think it'll work?"

Tommy shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He pointed at the bottom right corner.

"Put the amulet down here and see what happens?"

Gabrielle knelt down and stared at the map. Suddenly the top and left side crystals began to glow.

"Okay, okay," Tommy said excitedly. "Now, move the amulet in the indicated direction."

"Brilliant," Shilah said, nodding.

Gabrielle did as instructed, watching as the crystals began to pulse with purpose. She crawled across the map, following where the pointers led. Suddenly the green crystal in the center burst to life.

"That's it!" Tommy cried with glee. "Damn, I'm good!"

Gabrielle's mouth was open in awe as she saw the glowing light beneath her hand. She lifted the artifact, only to have the fire in the central crystal die. She replaced it and the green light grew again.

The rest of them were on their feet, staring down at the map.

"Where is it?" Katrina asked.

Debbie crouched down next to Gabrielle and looked down. She smiled knowingly.

"Serpent Mound State Park," she said. "That's a pretty good haul from here."

"But now we know," Tommy said happily. "Let's go get it."

"We can't," Shilah said. "We can't get it until Saturday, during the Convergence."

"Why not?" Tommy asked.

"Because it isn't there yet," Shilah surmised. "This amulet tells us where it will be, not where it is."

"Yeah," Debbie commented. "And we don't want Alti knowing about this before Saturday, or we could be in a lot of trouble."

"Debbie?" Tommy said as he looked down at the map. "Look here."

Debbie looked down at the map.

"You seeing what I'm seeing?" Tommy asked, smiling.

Debbie's eyes fixed on the long, orange line that went from the northeastern edge of the state down past the indicated spot.

"I'm seeing it," Debbie began to nod. "Oh, that's good, Papa Bear. That's real good."

"What?" Gabrielle, Shilah, Katrina, and Jesse all asked at the same time.

Debbie smiled broadly.

"This Halloween also happens to be the day that A.B.A.T.E. holds its annual Ride for the Cancer Research Foundation. It goes from Downtown Chicago to Starved Rock State Park."

"There's usually about two thousand or more bikes in that ride," Tommy added. "The ride starts at eight o'clock, Saturday night, and Arrives at Starved Rock about Twelve Thirty Sunday morning."

"I'm still not seeing why this is so good," Katrina shrugged.

"Kat, baby," Tommy asked. "If you want to hide a tree, where would you hide it?"

Katrina's eyes lit up. "In a forest!"

"And if you want to hide two people on a motorcycle?" Debbie asked.

Jesse was actually laughing out loud. "Oh, I would die to see the look on her face," she said.

"There's just one small detail," Tommy continued. "We can't just have three or four of us pulling out of here to meet up with the ride. We need everybody, or as close to everybody as we can get. We have forty bikes down there, but most of them are set up for storage. We're looking at one frantic maintenance schedule if we're gonna get them all ready in four days. Plus, I have another idea."

"I'm on it," Katrina bounced off the floor and ran to the phone. She dialed, waited and then spoke. "Hey Shawn – yes, I realize what time it is – look, I have a question for you? How fast can you get everyone together for a ride? This Saturday afternoon. Okay. Be at the clubhouse tomorrow morning. Oh, and get the others here. We've got bikes to prep. Love ya!" She hung up.

"We're rolling."

"Right," Tommy said, moving to the door. "I've got a shop to organize. Jesse, Deb, Kat, let's start getting the bikes moved."

Gabrielle and Shilah followed the others out into the dimly lit garage. Tommy thumped down the steps to a series of silver boxes and flipped up three levers. Suddenly, the dim light was replaced with the glaring pale illumination of daylight as numerous other lights hummed to life.

"Gabrielle," Shilah said. "We still need to speak. Come with me, please."

The first thing David heard was the familiar RAT-TAT-TAT of an impact wrench beneath him. He rolled up to a seated position and rubbed his eyes. Sunlight streamed in from the window. He pulled on a shirt, pair of jeans, and stepped out into the hall.

Voices could be heard in the shop. A lot of voices, and then RAT-TAT-TAT! The sound of the air tools.

"What the hell?" he asked, moving to the main room. He almost crashed into Michelle bustling out of the kitchen with a tray full of coffee mugs.

"Morning!" she greeted, stopping before him. She extended the tray, and he removed a mug.

"What the hell is going on?" He asked.

"Can't talk now," Michelle said quickly. "Gotta deliver!"

She kicked the door open and turned back. "Wanna wake your friend? She's missing all the fun!"

David listened to the cacophony of mechanical sounds below.

"Fun?" he retorted. He turned back towards the hall and knocked on Gabrielle's door.

A soft groan came from the other side of the door.

"Gabrielle?" David called, and he opened the door.

Gabrielle lay sprawled on the bed, covered in the blankets. Gabrielle pulled the blankets over her head.

"Come on," David said unenthusiastically. "Rise and shine."

Gabrielle peeked out from beneath the blanket. "I'll rise," she said thickly. "But I refuse to shine."

David sipped the coffee and smiled. "I hear ya." He closed the door, allowing her privacy and then went back to his room and got properly dressed.

The two of them stepped out into the shop and stopped dead.

The entire place was a hive of activity.

At the center of it was Tommy, moving back and forth with a stack of plastic bags, stuffed with paper. He was issuing orders just like a shop manager, which is, in fact, what his line of work was.

"Bout freaking time!" he bellowed at David. Then he turned back around to a skinny dark haired young man.

"Lawn Boy! Get T-Bone's Bagger on Shakespeare's lift!" He handed David one of the plastic envelopes. "Oil Change, plugs and carb adjust," he said.

"Tommy?" David started, but the big man held up his hand.

"Hey, Shawn!" he called.

Off in the corner, another large man paced back and forth, a cell phone in his hand. He paused in mid sentence and looked up.

"Did Munch send those parts from Suburban yet?"

Shawn consulted a large dry marker board in front of him.

"They'll be here by three!" he called back, and then he resumed his conversation.

Tommy nodded and turned to another station where a second man was just finishing up on a blue Road King.

"Goat!" he called. "Get Ranger's bike out to the staging area and bring in the purple Fat Boy!"

"Got it!" the young man replied, catching the next work order in his hand. He tossed it onto his workbench and lowered the hydraulic jack holding his finished project.

"Tommy!" David repeated more loudly. The big man turned back. "What the hell is going on?"

"I'll fill you in later," Tommy said. "Right now, I need you to get to work on T-Bone's Bagger, okay?"

David's eyebrows rose and he looked back at Gabrielle, who only smiled a knowing smile.

Lawn Boy rolled in a large, gleaming black motorcycle and positioned it on David's lift.

Shrugging, David went to his station and began opening up his tools.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" he asked Gabrielle. He reviewed the quick notes on the bike he was assigned and then began selecting the necessary tools.

Gabrielle leaned against the workbench and told him everything.

As David heard the plan he laughed mischievously. "I love it."

From that point on, day or night, the shop was in constant activity as motorcycles of various makes and models were rolled in and out, one by one for repairs. Some were simple oil changes, while others ranged all the way up to complete engine and transmission rebuilds. Everyone worked as long as they could, or slept up in the main room before returning to work. Even Gabrielle learned enough of the basics to turn a wrench here and there. It was something that she found she actually enjoyed.

They also found out that while she liked the taste of coffee, the caffeine in it had a rather intense effect upon her. After the second episode of her practically tap dancing across the ceiling, Michelle was forced to put on a pot of decaf.

The shop was divided into sections. Prep, Work, Close Out, and Final Cleanup. Everyone knew their jobs and did them quickly and efficiently.

For the less mechanically inclined, they would support the others, keeping the coffee coming or preparing the meals.

Delivery trucks from various dealerships arrived like clockwork for two days straight. David paused when he recognized a delivery truck from a nearby Oldsmobile dealership. He frowned as Tommy took possession of a large order of parts and had them wheeled into the back bay - David's back bay.

He peeked underneath the Goldwing he was working on.

"Gabrielle?" he called. "Can you pop the drain plug on this for me? I'll be right back."

Gabrielle nodded, happy to use the little bit of modern knowledge she had acquired.

David went across the shop and found Tommy, Dusty and Steve deep in conversation.

"What's up?" David asked. Then he saw the stack of schematics laid out on the table – his schematics. "What are you doing?"

"If this is going to work," Tommy said. "You're going to need something a little safer than Rosie. So, we're going to get Panama ready for you."

"Panama?" David said. "Tommy? The car is in pieces?"

"Yeah?" Steve replied, folding his arms.

"You're talking a frame up build," David said.

"Yeah?"

"Inside and out!"

"Yeah?"

"In two days?"

"Yeah?" Steve looked amused.

"With all my little options?"

"Yeah?"

"You guys are crazy!"

"Yeah?" Steve said. "We done now?"

A squeal from David's workstation, followed by rolls of laughter, interrupted the highly enlightened conversation.

David looked up in alarm and then broke into a huge grin. He laughed out loud with the others.

Apparently, Gabrielle had run into a small issue with her assigned task. When she had looked beneath the bike to finish removing the errant drain plug, the oil had poured out all over the lift, and all over the right side of Gabrielle's face. She stood there, her hair and face covered in the dark liquid, frowning angrily at the machine, and then she blushed as she heard the laughter.

David walked back over to her, grinning broadly.

Gabrielle wiped the slippery stuff from her face and fixed him with a dark scowl.

"It's not funny," she moaned.

"I'm sorry," David said, his voice breaking. "I'm really trying not to laugh." Then the laughter just burst from him again.

After a few moments of good-natured humor, David began to look at Gabrielle closely, his smile fading to something more thoughtful.

Suddenly, Gabrielle began to feel like she was being studied. She pushed her dirty hair back out of her face and looked at him.

"What?"

David didn't hear her. He was staring at her face and her hair that had been a lovely golden blond, now stained a dirty brown by the errant oil.

"Kat!" He called over his shoulder. "Come here a minute!"

Katrina came running in from outside. "Yeah, what's up?" Then she saw Gabrielle and her hands covered her mouth as she began to laugh.

"Oh god," she laughed. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Gabrielle sulked.

"I have an idea," David said. Then he whispered in Katrina's ear for a moment.

Katrina's eyes lit up with glee. "You think so?"

David nodded. Then he looked at Gabrielle. "Right now, Alti is looking for a blonde on the back of a bike, right?"

"Yeah," Katrina agreed. "But she also knows what Gabby looks like."

"From behind?" David asked.

"I get it," Katrina nodded and smiled.

"I don't," Gabrielle asked, still wiping furiously at her filthy hair.

"Hey Bullet!" David turned back to the stocky, dark skinned man. "What do you think? Brunette or Red Head?"

"You know me, Cavrone," Derek replied easily. "I always say; Knock em dead in red."

David looked back at Katrina, his eyebrow rose.

"You bet," Katrina nodded. Then she reached out for Gabrielle. "Come on, Gabs. Let's get you cleaned up, and then, I've got a surprise for you."

Gabrielle, still completely bewildered, followed the excited young woman up the stairs.

"You know how Shilah was talking to you about focusing your mind into changing the way your aura is perceived?" Katrina explained.

Gabrielle nodded.

"Well, we can do the same with your appearance." She smiled. "Nothing crazy. Just a subtle change."

Katrina led her up into the main room and fished out a few things from the oversized bag she always carried.

"Go take a shower and get cleaned up," she instructed. "Then get ready to relax. This'll be fun!"

David finished up the Gold Wing and cleaned up the oil spill. He saw Katrina running out of the shop towards her car.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

"I need supplies!" she called back and was gone. She returned a few minutes later with a large plastic bag.

"Okay, boys," she said from the foot of the steps. "The bar is closed until I'm done, understood?"

This brought a chorus of groans from the assembled people.

"Yeah well, deal with it!" Katrina replied and she jogged up the steps and locked the door behind her.

Several hours later, as David and Steve were discussing the reassembly of his car, the door opened and Katrina came out, followed by a second figure.

"Oh, Shakespeare?" Katrina called out in a lilting voice. "Have I got a surprise for you!"

TBC

21


	8. Shuffling the Deck

**Shuffling the Deck**

David came out from beneath the steps and looked up. Katrina stood proudly, her arms crossed over her chest as she posed next to her latest creation. Gabrielle stepped up wearing a light tan deerskin jacket, dark brown loose fitting blouse and the standard jeans and boots. It wasn't the change in wardrobe that brought the entire operation to a grinding halt. It was her face and hair. The golden blonde hair was now a deep, almost brownish, auburn red. That color brought out the emerald color of her eyes to such an extent that they seemed almost luminous. Katrina had also utilized her skills as a makeup artist.

"I'll be God damned," Tommy whispered.

"Kat?" David said, suddenly at a loss for words. "Uh, wow!"

Gabrielle suddenly blushed and smiled.

"Kiss my black ass," Derek finally managed to say. "Damn girl, you look like a teenager!"

"Is that bad?" Gabrielle asked nervously.

"No, no," David said, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth again. "No, not at all. It's a good thing." He turned back around before the sudden, almost inappropriate, surge of desire got the better of him. "Good thing," he repeated quietly. "Very, very good thing." He blinked as if the sight of her had momentarily blinded him. "Damn! I need a drink."

Steve heard the comment and shrugged. "Cold showers work too."

"Not on him," Crazy Johnny said dryly from beside his massive yellow monstrosity.

David gave him a scowl and then lay back down on the creeper, sliding beneath the frame of the disassembled car.

Gabrielle watched him depart, his arms swinging back and forth nervously.

"Did we do something?" she asked Katrina. The younger woman only smiled.

"You mean besides knock him dead?" she asked. She grinned. "What do you think?"

"I don't think my own mother would recognize me," Gabrielle replied.

"And that's exactly what we want," Katrina agreed.

As David was messing about with a brake line, safely beneath the frame of his car, Dusty came over and leaned over him.

"You know," he said casually. "If you don't make a move on that soon, I just might have to." He grinned as David dropped a wrench with a clatter.

"You're a real dick, you know that?" David said from beneath the car. "What makes you think she'd even be interested?"

"In me?" Dusty said easily. "I can think of lots of reasons."

"And I can come up with ten reasons why not, for every one of yours," David retorted.

"Hey in there!" Derek called loudly. "Don't be hating now!"

As the activity on the bikes died down, focus shifted to the massive amalgamation of parts that would eventually become David's 1975 Cutlass.

The work went on at a fever pitch as parts were placed and bolted or welded on. Eventually, the vehicle began to take shape.

David watched the activity when he wasn't actually involved. He folded his arms and sighed, leaning over next to Steve.

"You know," he said. "I had planned on restoring her myself. It was kind of a personal mission I had."

Steve smiled, his gray eyes looking over the car. "Well," he said. "Get over it."

Gabrielle watched the large metallic beast slowly come together. She also watched David, going at an almost hyper pace, like a small child excitedly awaiting the arrival of a birthday and the anticipated gifts. She smiled constantly as he nit picked over one detail or another, much to the consternation of Steve, who had taken over the role of supervisor for the rushed project.

They continued for nearly thirty-six hours straight, stopping only to swig down mugs of fresh coffee. Then the vehicle, now complete and operational, was rolled into a large, plastic lined booth.

"Alright, Goat!" Steve called, waking the young man from a deep slumber. "You're on! Make her beautiful!"

Goat rolled off the lift he had been sleeping on and rubbed his eyes. Then he zipped the forward layers of plastic closed behind him and activated the ventilation fan and compressor. The cloudy texture of the plastic obscured his action as he began to move back and forth around the car.

David suddenly felt nearly three days of straight work begin to take its toll. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and glanced at his watch. It was twelve-forty AM, Saturday morning!

"God damn." he groaned. With the excitement (or challenge) of getting all the bikes prepped and his car rebuilt finally winding down, he felt the weariness for the first time, as did many of them.

"Well," Steve said easily. "I'm gonna head home and grab some shut eye. Call me when you all wake up."

One by one, they all departed and the shop lights towards the front of the building went dim. The machines slept once more.

David watched the activity behind the foggy plastic for a few minutes, and then he gave in to his desire for rest and trudged up the steps into the main room.

He paused at the bar and poured himself a drink before continuing towards the hallway.

"Hey, Shakes!" Debbie called after him.

David turned and leaned against the corner. Debbie, Jesse, Katrina and Gabrielle sat there, obviously in the midst of some major discussion.

"What did Alti do?" Debbie asked.

David sighed and took a drink. "The same thing society's been trying to do to me for thirty odd years, why?"

"In English," Debbie snapped.

"She tried to dominate my mind," David replied. "She was pretty adept at it, too."

"You think she might try it again?" Jesse asked, suddenly nervous.

David thought for a moment and shook his head. "I doubt she will."

"Oh?" Debbie asked, one eyebrow arching inquisitively. "What did you do?"

David's weary smile spread a little.

"I mind blasted her," he said. "She's blind for a while, yet. Maybe till this whole thing's over?" He shrugged.

"We can't get that lucky," Jesse commented.

"You 'mind blasted' her?" Gabrielle asked, not understanding the meaning.

"I took my energy and shot it through her mind. A lot of it, all at once," David explained.

"No wonder you were so wiped out," Debbie nodded.

"Well, that and the blast she sent at me," David closed his eyes. It was the only way he could keep from staring at Gabrielle. "That hurt a lot, though I did my best not to let it show. In any event, I think we might have scared a bit of respect into her. She'll leave us be for the time being."

He nodded once, his gaze locking on Gabrielle and his stupid smile began to reassert itself. He turned back towards his room.

"Knock em dead in red," he muttered, imitating Derek's tenor voice. "That's what I always say. Jesus!"

The girls heard his door open and close and then silence. Gabrielle sat there, looking at the spot where David had just vanished, a soft smile on her face. It faded as she turned back to Debbie.

"I still don't understand the whole thing about a mind blast?" she asked.

"Alti tried to dominate David's will," Debbie explained. Gabrielle noted that both Jesse and Katrina wore expressions of mild awe.

Debbie smiled. "She tried to get into his head and twist his sense of reality, and then control his actions."

"That part I understand," Gabrielle nodded.

"David," Katrina continued, "let her into his mind, and then kicked the ever living crap out of her."

"He focused his own mental energy in a duel for control. One thing that Shilah mentioned was his innate ability to manipulate energy?"

"I remember."

"This is part of what she meant," Debbie continued. "David pooled his energy – spiritual and magical - and absorbed all of her punishment, then he drew on more and sent it all back at her in one massive surge."

"Mind blast." Gabrielle nodded, now understanding.

"It was a risky move," Debbie said. "Too little, and he could have left himself open for domination. Too much?" she shrugged.

"He might have died," Gabrielle finished when Debbie paused. "Again."

She got up and paced a few steps away, her heart pounding in her chest suddenly.

"Debbie!" Gabrielle burst out. "That's the second time since I've come here that he's almost gotten killed because of me! What's he doing?"

Debbie shrugged. "Shakespeare's doing what he does. He's being Shakespeare."

"What are you more concerned with?" Jesse suddenly asked. "Him getting hurt, or you getting hurt over him?"

"Him, of course!" Gabrielle answered immediately, but her eyes told another story.

"Look, Gabby," Katrina finally blurted. "Enough of this. David is falling for you, and you're falling for him. Now, I don't know why you two haven't figured it out yet, and frankly, I don't care! The only thing I do know is that everyone except the two of you sees it!"

Gabrielle said nothing, feeling the truth in the young woman's words sink in with the inevitability of sliding into quicksand.

"Did you know that some of the guys have a pool going?" Katrina continued. "And most of them think you two won't get you heads out of your asses till this is all over!"

"Easy, Kat," Debbie cautioned.

"No," Katrina said sharply. "I think you need to hear this!" She fixed Gabrielle with a fierce stare. "Nevermind the fact that I've had a thing for him for the last two years and nothing's ever happened. Now I see why!"

"It's because I'm not like you," she finished with a touch of regret. "David's ass is on the line, because he knows, like we all do, that it's the right thing to do. But David's at the front of the line because he also cares about you more!"

Katrina sighed. "Look, maybe there will be time to explore the possibilities after this is all over. I hope there is, I really, truly do. But you have to ask yourself one very important question."

"And that is?" Gabrielle asked, not sure whether she should be angry with the young woman.

"What happens if you don't get the chance?" Katrina finished.

She rubbed Gabrielle's arm affectionately for a moment, and then turned and left the room.

Gabrielle stood there, stunned. She wanted to argue, but she could not find the words. For the first time in a long time, she was at a loss for words. She looked at Debbie helplessly.

"I just don't want to lose anyone else," she whispered with a hint of desperation.

"You can't sweat that, Gabs," Debbie shrugged. "All you can do is make the most of the moment."

"You want to know why David's doing the things he's doing?" Jesse said quietly. She was still reeling over Katrina's admission of a few moments before.

Gabrielle looked down at the teenager. Jesse's pale blue eyes looked up into hers.

"He lives every day as if it were his last," Jesse said. "Because, you never know, it just might be."

Those words resonated in Gabrielle's ears, with a truth she had failed to see for the longest time. At the same moment, something else solidified in her mind and heart. She looked back towards the hall, suddenly afraid in a way she hadn't remembered for years.

Debbie smiled reassuringly. "Carpe Diem, Gabrielle. Carpe Diem."

Gabrielle frowned.

"Seize the day," Debbie finished.

Gabrielle let that settle in her mind for a moment, pacing slowly back and forth, deep in thought.

"I think," Debbie said softly, "that it's time for us to go." She rose, with her daughter in tow and the two of them headed for the door. Debbie turned back to face her.

"I'll tell Goat not to come up until one of you comes down, okay?" she said. "Just think about it. Think hard."

"Gabrielle," Jesse added. "He's a great guy. He'll never steer you wrong. He'll never lie to you, even when you want him to."

"And," Debbie finished, smiling. "He'll never let anything hurt you, if it's in his power to stop it."

"Even at the cost of his own life?" Gabrielle asked, suddenly remembering Xena again, and her last battle in Japa.

Debbie smiled and gave a shrug.

The two women left her alone in the massive room.

Gabrielle paced some more, the memories flooding through her mind. Suddenly, she saw Xena's face before her. She was looking at her, and the love was so palpable, mixed with sadness that, at the time, she didn't understand.

"_If I'm going to die in the next thirty seconds,"_ Xena smiled. _"Then I want to do it, looking into your eyes."_

Those words suddenly hit home in a way that they never had before. Xena had known she was going to die. She had known that the journey to Japa would claim her life. She had desired only one thing before the end. A single, beautiful memory that she could take with her when she went.

Gabrielle suddenly realized that she also wanted, no, _needed_, the same thing. She wanted a moment to take with her. She wanted to give a moment to the man that had risked his life for her. The thought fell, soft and slow onto her heart, like a warm blanket.

"The man she was starting to love." She stopped in her tracks as that thought rang in her mind, echoed by her thundering heart. Love? Could it really be something like that? She suddenly understood that she was not in love with David. But that she was falling there fast, and that frightened her.

The possibility of doing nothing – of allowing time, after everything was done, was safer. They could take the time to allow this thing between them to grow.

"What happens if you never get the chance?" Her mind echoed Katrina's words. "How would you feel?"

That possibility also frightened her. The question was; which possibility frightened her the most?

She stopped at the end of the hall, which suddenly appeared long and ominous. The easy way was to go back into the main room, maybe fish about for something to eat. She could dig up a quill and some paper and write down everything that had happened, or?

That idea gave her pause. She had not wanted to write anything down since she had lost Xena. Now she was contemplating it again, as much out of a desire to do so, as it would be an easy escape.

The fact that her Muse, dormant for so long, had suddenly reawakened made her smile at the situation.

She wanted to tell this story! She wanted to tell it all, to record this moment in her life for all to know. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes and she could see again.

The emotion welled up suddenly, and for no reason she could think of, a tear ran down her cheek.

"He's given that back to me as well," she breathed. Of all the gifts she had received from this one man, he had given her that as well. The thing that fascinated her most was that he had done this without any expectation. He had wanted nothing from her at all, except perhaps her smile. A smile, in spite of the silent tears, grew on her face. In that moment, she realized what her soul had been screaming for the past two weeks.

With her heart bouncing within her ribcage, she walked down the hall towards his door.

Her hand stopped just before it touched the wood and she hesitated.

It was her wedding night all over again. The feelings of anticipation, fear, desire, all jumbled into a knot in her belly.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom at the end of the hall opened, startling her. She let out a nervous squeal as David emerged from the cloud of steam, wearing a pair of cloth sweat pants and rubbing a towel through his thick mane of wet hair. He jumped at her squeal and grinned.

"Sorry," he said. Then he stopped when he saw the look on her face and the tear streaks on her cheeks. His expression softened.

"Hey?" he said softly. "You alright?"

"Hi," Gabrielle stammered, suddenly nervous now that he was before her. "I was, um, I wanted to," She closed her eyes in frustration.

David stepped up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. The touch sent a ripple through her.

"Gabrielle? What's wrong?" he asked.

She looked up into his eyes. "It's just –" she began again and her voice caught. She closed her eyes again and took several nervous breaths. Then she looked up at him and before she lost her nerve, she reached her hands up to either side of his face and kissed him. The moment their lips touched, a river of passion blasted through her, as if a dam had burst and she held him in that kiss for as long as she could hold her breath.

It was David that actually parted them.

"Hey, now," he said in shock. "Slow down, killer."

He put his hand against her cheek. "You don't owe me anything," he said understandingly. "And you certainly don't have to do this."

She let her eyes close under his touch, relishing it for the moment, and then she looked back up at him. She realized that he meant it. She didn't have to do this, and that only made her want it more.

"I know," she said, and she kissed him again. They fell through the door into her small room and never bothered to find the bed. Somehow the comforter and the blankets ended up wrapped about them as their garments went flying.

Then they stopped, looking at each other. She lay atop him, her eyes a green sensuous fire. A smile crept across her face at his expression.

"How long have you been planning this?" He asked.

She placed a finger against his lips, silencing him, smiled, and kissed him again.

It began again with a slow deliberate exploration that would have seemed maddening if not for the absolute pleasure of it all. Every kiss was a tongue of flame in the fire, and their caresses the water cooling that burn. It went on and on for hours until, finally, the desires beneath the curious explorations began to overwhelm them both. They clutched at one another with a near desperation as they finally came together. David could feel her nails clawing into his back as she clutched at him. Her breath came in his ear as she held close to him. She felt the heat of his breath on her neck and reveled in it.

David held her tightly to him, almost with the same desperation as she, knowing that this night could probably be their one and only time together. He did not want to fail her in any way. Along with the absolute ecstasy of it all, he felt the pain in his heart that by tomorrow she might be gone. He wanted so much to keep her there with him, forever, in this one perfect moment.

They made love again and again with the desperation of two people who, though in love, knew that they might be forever parted. They held nothing back, expended all their passion, all their strength, all their desire in this one desperate night.

At some point, the two of them finally succumbed to sleep and lay in each other's arms. Then, David's eyes opened and he saw her lying there, her head against his chest. She had the most wonderfully peaceful expression on her face. David felt her breathing against his skin, slow and gentle. Reaching down, he pulled the blanket closer around them.

"Thank you," he whispered softly.

He didn't know how long they lay there. He just watched her sleeping in his arms, burning the image into his memory. Every detail of her face, every sensation of her body lying naked against his. He tried to burn that image and those sensations into his mind.

A soft moan escaped her lips and she stirred. Then her eyes opened and she looked up at him.

"Hi," David said gently, brushing a few stray strands of red hair from her eyes. She smiled and lay her head back down against his chest, listening to his heart beat, slow and steady.

Then she looked up at him again with a twinge of regret. "I'm sorry."

David smiled warmly. "For what?"

"I should have done this a lot sooner," Gabrielle confessed. "I was afraid of you."

David chuckled. "Of me? Why?"

"Because you're everything that I've missed since I lost Xena," she said finally. Then she smiled and kissed him. "And more."

David stroked her cheek and smiled.

"I don't want to lose you," she said. "I've lost so many people already. Perdicus, Xena, Autolicus, Joxer, and so many others. I don't want to lose you too."

He stroked her hair gently and held her close.

"Last night," she suddenly confessed. "I haven't been with anyone since before my husband died. I don't know why, I just," she stopped. Then she looked up at him.

"I want to stay with you, David." She said with a sudden desperation. "When this is over tonight, I want to stay here, with you."

David smiled reassuringly.

"I want you to stay," he said to her. "I want you to feel the wind in your face as we ride across the country, seeing all the wonders that your descendants have created." He smiled as an idea suddenly struck him. "When we're finished with this, would you like to go back home and see Greece as it is now?"

Her eyes lit up at that suggestion. She nodded eagerly.

He kissed her and smiled. "Then let's make sure Alti doesn't get the chance to spoil it, right?"

"Absolutely," she agreed and she kissed him again.

The phone on the nightstand suddenly rang, startling them both.

"Damn killjoys," David cursed, reaching up to grab the receiver. "Yeah?" he growled.

"I realize that the two of you are probably very busy right now," Tommy's voice teased. "But we do have a major deception to plan, and it is two in the afternoon?"

"Right," David nodded. "We'll be right down."

"We?" Tommy asked knowingly. "About damn time." The line went dead before David could reply.

David tossed the phone in the corner and wrapped his arms around Gabrielle again.

"Now I know why certain animals eat their young."

Gabrielle smiled. They lay together for a while longer before they both agreed that they did have to join the others. They got up, dressed and grabbed something to drink on their way to the shop.

When they stepped through the door, David stopped short, his mouth falling open in shock.

In the center of the floor, gleaming black and red, was Panama. The Cutlass completely finished out and restored.

"Holy shit," he stammered.

"Just like High School," Dusty smiled. "Only better, because now we all know what we're doing."

At that instant, Steve, who had been seated in the driver's seat, turned the key. The Cutlass roared to life. He let the engine growl at idle for a moment or two, and then revved it, making it roar again and again.

David walked mechanically down the steps, his eyes never moving from the gently rocking vehicle as the engine roared.

Tommy sidled up to him and patted his shoulder. "I think this'll be a match for that cop car the bitch is driving."

David ran his hand lovingly along the fender, feeling the engine thrum beneath his fingers like a thing alive. His smile broadened. "Oh, yeah."

The engine died and silence descended for a moment.

David stepped up to Goat and shook his hand. "She looks wonderful, man."

"Now," Steve said. "The plan."

"The plan." David stepped up next to Gabrielle, who also couldn't take her eyes off the massive machine.

"Goat," Steve ordered. "Grab the flatbed from work and load Panama up on it."

"What?" Goat asked in surprise.

"Go get the flatbed." Steve said again. "Now."

Reluctantly, Goat left.

"Okay," Steve smiled. "The ride leaves downtown at about eight o'clock. If we leave about the same time, and take 355, we can hook up with them about here." He pointed at an intersection on a map draping over his workbench. "Once we hook up with the ride, we shuffle the deck."

"And lose us in the crowd." David nodded. "Then what?"

"Then, after about ten miles, you two duck off here," he pointed at another intersection. "Switch vehicles under the bridge and head to Serpent Mound while the rest of us, with what's her tits in tow, continue towards Starved Rock." He grinned. "You two will have to make a subtle change on the way."

"Oh?" David asked.

"I've already talked to Trikey Mike," Steve continued. "He'll be in the middle of the pack on the Chariot. Get up next to him, ditch the helmets and," he turned to Gabrielle, "your outer jacket."

"Outer jacket?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yup." Steve smiled. "Come with me. There's a quick modification we need to make on Rosie."

OCT 31, 2004 4:45 PM 

Derek pulled Bullit up into the gas station and began fueling up his bike for the ride. His eyes surreptitiously scanned the surrounding traffic. Sure enough, he spied the familiar black sedan coasting down the main street of town. The car slowed suddenly and then continued. Derek smiled as he saw the two pairs of eyes fix on him. He finished gassing up and turned out of the gas station, following them. He passed them on the main road and began a long winding route back to the clubhouse.

"Call Papa Bear," he said into the mic on his helmet. His cell phone beeped.

"Yeah?"

"I got the bitch," Derek said cheerfully. He checked his mirror and saw the black Chevy two cars back, trailing him. "They're on me now. How long you want me to string them along?"

"Give us thirty minutes," Tommy said. "Then head back this way."

"No problemo," Derek answered cheerfully.

In the car, Alti and Mr. Finch watched intently as the silver motorcycle made several turns onto various unnamed roads, weaving casually through the countryside.

The entire time, Alti focused upon him with unblinking rage.

"I can take care of him," Finch said.

"I doubt it," Alti retorted. "If he gets a whiff of us, he'll leave us behind." She tried again to enter this man's mind, only to give up in frustration. She was still feeling the effects of that mans' mental attack. Her powers were still paralyzed. "Just keep him in sight. Let him lead us to Gabrielle and the Amulet."

5:30 PM

Members had been arriving steadily for the past hour, and now there were nearly thirty people commiserating in the clubhouse. Most of the members not in the know, were upstairs in the main room, while the conspirators waited in the shop.

Gabrielle paced nervously, while David chewed on a cigar, his eyes fixed on the two closed doors.

A familiar, high-pitched beep was heard, and David hit the door switch. Derek and Bullit coasted into the bay and stopped.

"Okay, compadres, she's parked out on Main, waiting." He smiled smugly. "Next?"

"Next, is dinner," Steve said easily.

"Dinner?" David asked. "You're hungry?"

"Yeah," Steve answered. "First order of survival. Eat when you can, you never know when the next meal is coming. Come on."

On his way up the steps, he put his phone to his ear. "Goat! You there yet? Well, get moving, we roll in a couple of hours."

They entered the main room, crowded with members and friends of members. Off in the corner, on the sofa, Shilah, Debbie, Katrina, and Jesse all sat along with several other people that Gabrielle didn't know. All of them had an air of expectation and they each silently greeted her.

"That's the rest of the coven," David whispered in her ear.

Gabrielle nodded and then stopped when she bumped into a large muscular man in a rough and worn black jacket, covered by a vest that seemed to be made of countless patches.

"Hey, T-Bone," David greeted, shaking the man's hand. Then he looked at Gabrielle.

"Gabby," he smiled. "I believe you already met T-Bone, here?"

Gabrielle looked up at the wizened face and long dark beard in recognition. It was the man from the bar. The one that she had gotten into a fight with.

Suddenly, the adrenaline began to flow.

Instead, T-Bone extended a hand in greeting. "Hello again."

Gabrielle didn't know what to say. She took the proffered hand and shook.

"By the way," he said, grinning. "That was a pretty wild show last weekend. I'm impressed."

"Don't make me repeat it," Gabrielle growled.

T-Bone looked at her for a moment, and then he laughed uproariously.

He patted David on the shoulder. "She's alright," he said. He nodded to her and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

"What was that about?" Gabrielle asked, completely perplexed and shaking from unexpended excitement.

David only shrugged. "He likes you."

"Likes me?" Gabrielle shot back. "He's the same son of a Minotaur that tried to mess with me – "

"And you stood your ground," David finished. "Then you let him know it wasn't just a fluke. You earned his respect." He smiled. "Relax."

David looked back at Shilah, who only nodded. Then the rest of the coven, minus Tommy, vanished through the door.

"And so, it begins," David muttered.

7:30 PM

Alti and Finch watched helplessly as more and more vehicles poured into the tiny field adjacent to their objective.

"I'm sorry, Alti," Finch said regretfully. "There are simply too many of them for us to get in."

Alti growled in frustration as she tried to think of a way – any way – they might be able to get in and reclaim their missing property.

Gary, or "Dad", was one of the last ones to arrive. He strode into the garage where the majority of the participants were doing final checks of their bikes, and spread his arms out.

"Shakespeare?" he asked. "What's with the cop car at the end of the driveway?"

"Not cops," David answered as he double-checked the quick wiring adjustment he and Steve had made. "And they're after Gabrielle. We need to get her out of here."

Gary fixed his gray eyes on Gabrielle for a moment, noting the change in hair color with a raised eyebrow, and then he nodded.

"Say no more," he said.

As the group was gathering around their bikes, David, Tommy, Derek, Dusty and several others withdrew to a corner, near Derek's workbench. They stood silently for a moment. Then David said a few quiet words and Derek reached up and hit a button on the small bookshelf stereo sitting above his bench.

Instantly, music began to play and the small group fell silent as if absorbing the sound.

"Uh, oh," Gary said from astride the lady. "They're playing Willie the Wimp."

Gabrielle slid next to Debbie. "What are they doing?"

Debbie smiled. "Them? Oh they're just getting psyched up."

"Psyched up?" Gabrielle asked. "What do you mean?"

"Whenever those boys are about to do something completely crazy, they always play that song to get ready for it." Debbie explained. "It's kind of like taking that deep breath before you dive under water."

As she watched, they all seemed in a mild state of reverie, subtly moving to the music. David's lips moved in synch with the words as he stood there. She watched his fingers twitch in anticipation.

"Okay boys and girls!" Steve shouted over the din of voices. "Load up!"

The music halted and the men in the corner went into a form of auto pilot, moving their bikes up into the group.

Tommy walked his Yamaha up next to David and Gabrielle, as they finished their final preparations.

David smiled and the two of them bumped fists before finishing their checks.

Cycles were lined up in front of the closed doors, three across, with the café bikes in the front. David and Gabrielle set themselves in the middle of the pack. She looked over at Steve and Debbie, astride Mistress. Steve had his cell phone to his ear. He spoke a few words and nodded, then he looked up at Gabrielle and gave the universal sign for "okay."

The ride was leaving the city.

Gabrielle leaned forward to tell David and heard him muttering something to himself.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"Just part of a little twisted prayer I know," David replied with a wry smile. He lifted his helmet before his face and paused.

"Yay, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no Evil, because I'm the baddest son of a bitch in the whole damn Valley!"

Gabrielle smiled and drew her own helmet over her face. David turned and plugged the small lead into the jack on the helmet before checking to make sure her cell phone was on.

"Crank em up!" Steve shouted.

7:55 PM

Alti's patience was at an end. She had just decided that she would go into the place, and she didn't care how many of them there were, when the ground suddenly thundered beneath them. The entire building seemed to shake.

"What in the name of Hades is that?" she hissed.

The door slid aside, revealing the interior of the place and a flood of pale lights burst forth from within. A thin blue haze rolled out into the crisp night air, and then three motorcycles seemed to leap out of the barn, followed by more and more.

Alti recognized the silver bike in the front and the dark skinned man in the jacket with the painted tiger.

"It's them," she said, settling back into the seat. "Follow them."

"Where is the girl?" Finch asked as his eyes tried desperately to scan the passing figures.

Alti didn't see her, but she did see the back of another jacket, and her eyes lit up.

"There!" she pointed at a dark colored bike in the middle of the pack. "She's there! Go!"

They inched forward and waited until the last bike in the pack thundered past, then the black Chevy pulled out into the road and followed them. There was no mistaking that yellow machine. It was the same bike that had nearly fried them a few nights before.

David hit the button on the top of his phone. "Conference mode. Call Papa Bear, Bullit, Crazy Johnny, Oddball, Dusty, Gabrielle, and Steve."

The lines all connected. "Okay," David asked. "What's up?"

"Well," Johnny's voice answered calmly. "Our favorite fan is behind us. Keeping a discreet distance for the moment."

"Igor told me that the ride headed out a little ahead of schedule," Steve added. "They should be past the ramp when we get there. We'll need to hoof it to catch them up."

"Okay, boss," David agreed. "Then take lead with Dad and set the pace. Everyone else, keep an eye on our friends back there. If they get too anxious, or do something crazy, scatter. I don't want anyone getting hurt. Johnny, can you hold them off if it comes to that?"

"You want me awake or asleep?" Johnny replied easily.

"Okay," Steve said. "One hour till the interstate. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

A little less than an hour later, the thirty-two bikes of the Zombie Squad and others took up all three lanes on the 355 bypass heading south. Several of the speed happy café riders began horsing around, riding wheelies and the like, while the others maintained a rough formation.

Dusty came riding past David and Gabrielle on Slut, bouncing back and forth and smacking the rear seat as if he were a jockey in a horse race. Several other members had their own antics, and a couple of games of tag ensued, which only managed to mix the formation up even more. That was exactly what David and the others wanted. They kept rotating positions, inside, outside, towards the front, or rear, but never in the outer edge of the formation, hoping to confuse the two people in the black sedan that still shadowed them. T-Bone locked his throttle, leaned back on the back seat and rested his feet on the gas tank, lounging comfortably as he coasted past Gabrielle and David, an open can of soda pop in his hand. He raised the can in salute and took another drink as the bike drifted forward.

Gabrielle laughed out loud. Another neon blue and green racing bike coasted by, the riders legs wrapped up on the back seat, his hands resting on the fuel tank, while his chin lay on them, as if asleep.

Gabrielle leaned forward. "You're all crazy!" she shouted. "All of you!"

She wrapped her arms about David's neck and squeezed reassuringly. In spite of the threat behind them, she was actually enjoying herself.

9:10 PM – I 55 South

Alti sat and watched in frustration as the crowd of motorcycles continued down the dark interstate. Without the benefit of regular lamps illuminating the road, she had almost lost track of Gabrielle several times. She had memorized the pattern of rear lights on the back of that machine, and kept her eyes glued to it with reptilian intensity.

"We should do something," Finch suggested.

"No," Alti countered. "She's going after the Chronos Stone. If we are to find it, then we must let her lead us to it!" She smiled. "She won't get away. Not now."

No sooner had she said this than the car crested a low hill and she saw a sight that made her heart sink. About a mile ahead of the small clot of machines was a long, seemingly endless line of tiny red taillights.

"What is that?" she asked in growing despair.

"Well," Finch sighed as he saw the line of bikes stretching off into the distance. "There's something you don't see every day."

David grinned. "Call Trikey Mike," he said, and another line clicked.

"Yo ho there!" a voice called back over the rush of wind.

"Trikey!" David greeted. "Check your mirror."

"Hey there Shakes!" Mike's voice was a loud baritone. "Get your ass up here! I want to meet the new lady in your life!"

"Well, she's on the line right now," David smiled.

"Really?" Trikey replied cheerily.

"Um, hello?" Gabrielle said uncertainly.

"And a fine hello to you too, miss," Trikey replied. "So, you're the one that finally cracked the gloomy brat out of his shell?"

"Hey!" David protested. He heard the others on the line laughing.

"I guess you could say that," Gabrielle smiled. "Among other things. But he was never gloomy around me? He's been a perfect gentleman."

"Gentleman?" Trikey replied. "What have you done with the real Shakespeare?"

"Where are you?" David asked quickly.

"Three quarters of the way up, inner line," Trikey replied. "Just come on up the middle and you can't miss me!"

Steve raised his left fist up and pumped three times in the air, then he and Gary began accelerating. Instantly, the rest of the squad ceased their on road antics and followed suit.

As they neared the trailing bikes of the formation, yet another deep and airy voice entered the call.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," Igor announced. "A bit of trivia for all you fans out there this evening. Currently, the temperature is forty-eight degrees with winds at a calm one-mile an hour out of the south. Tonight's grand total, two thousand, four hundred and twenty seven bikes. Total donations to the cancer fund were fifteen thousand seven hundred dollars. Our sponsors thank you for your support."

"What's up, my brother!" Derek called out gleefully. "Can we pay you at the end point? My boys and I wanna join up."

"Absolutely!" Igor's voice answered. "Come on up!"

Tommy's voice was thick with humor.

"Johnny, Bullit," he called. "Wake up the hornets!"

"My pleasure," Johnny's voice sounded happy for the first time.

"Bullit? With your permission?"

The silver Hyabusa drifted off to one side and the MotorPsycho howled ahead, hugging the left shoulder as it picked up speed.

"Light em up, my brother!"

Not to be outdone, the other speed happy rocket jocks accelerated towards the mass of machines.

Johnny got half way past the first batch of bikes and then opened up the flame-thrower, spewing the twenty-foot long burst of fire as he rocketed past them. Just after him, Derek and the other crotch rockets in the Squad ripped by in pursuit. The effect was immediate. Dozens of other racing bikes slipped out of the main formation and began skittering about in the left lane, while the cruisers reformed.

Steve's voice simply oozed confidence.

"Okay kids, let's shuffle the deck."

David and the Squad melded their formation in at the same time. Soon there was nothing but a large mass of blending red taillights out in the middle of the darkened highway.

David moved steadily and smoothly forward in the formation until he spotted his target, a large, green and white three-wheeled bike with a molded squarish top. The words

"Trikey Mikey's Sewing" painted in brilliant blue letters.

David slid in and noted the passing highway sign. Three miles till their exit.

He sidled his bike up alongside the trike and waved.

"Hello there!" Trikey Mike waived jovially. He was a short man, pudgy in the middle and completely bald. His face was a picture of piercings, and his gloved hands were covered in silver rings.

"You dropping off, or picking up?"

David grinned.

"Okay guys," he announced. "We're going off line for a while. We'll check in a little later."

"Good luck Shakes!" Tommy called. "Hey Gabby! Take good care of him!"

David reached down and flipped a small toggle switch behind his left knee. Instantly, the single tombstone taillight went dark, and two more horizontal lights along the base of his bags lit up.

David disconnected the cell phone and removed the helmet, tossing it in the back of the moving trike.

Gabrielle did the same thing, and her red hair went streaming in the wind. She also disposed of the helmet and then shrugged out of the black jacket. The tan deerskin underneath appeared. She managed to hand that over to the older gentleman before settling herself for the next part.

"Ready?" David asked.

Gabrielle reached down at the bundle of folded cloth between the two of them.

"Ready!"

David released the handlebars, allowing the bike to coast, and reached behind him as Gabrielle slipped the plain canvas duster up over the shoulders of his riding jacket, obscuring the Zombie Squad colors.

David looked over at Trikey and grinned.

Trikey smiled and nodded in approval.

"You're a real pretty lady! Nice to have met you!" he shouted at Gabrielle. Then he looked at David. "Excellent taste, Davey Boy!"

David smiled and gave a bow, and then he slipped into formation next to the trike.

Alti's eyes scanned the crowd of bikes for the familiar red taillights, she found several in this mass of machines, but none of them were the one she was looking for. A realization began to settle like rocks in her belly.

"Setup," she hissed in anger. "It's all a setup! The little bastard!"

She looked hungrily at Finch.

"Run them off the road!" She ordered. "Run them all off the road!"

"Are you completely mad?" Finch asked in shock. "There are thousands of them, and if I hit one, they will be on us like a pack of wolves!"

"Wolves," Alti hissed. She slammed her fist into the dashboard and fixed her eyes back out at the passing multitude of bikes.

They passed a large, three-wheeled vehicle, painted a brilliant green and white. Alti perked up a bit when she saw another motorcycle beyond it, but the lights were the wrong pattern and the passenger wore a pale coat and had dark hair.

They continued up the formation.

Gabrielle leaned her head against David's shoulder and watched, holding her breath as Alti's car coasted past and continued up the line.

David checked the next sign. One mile to the break off.

"Went right by us," David shouted triumphantly.

Gabrielle breathed a sigh of relief and then kissed David's cheek. "It actually worked!"

"Hey! Hey!" David sounded offended. "My plans always work!"

"You mean Steve's plan?" Gabrielle corrected him.

"I helped!" David continued.

"Oh?"

"Yeah!" David grinned. "I picked your coat!"

David looked over at Trikey and gave him a salute. "Ride safe, buddy!"

Then he switched off the ignition. The bike went dark and silent, coasting down the ramp to the underpass. He brought Rosie to a stop behind the silent flatbed.

Panama sat in front of it, waiting patiently.

David and Gabrielle walked toward the front of the truck. David knocked on the door. A bleary eyed Goat peeked out through the window.

"Oh," he said. "There you are. About time!"

David grinned. "Load up Rosie and take her back to the house," he said. "I'll see you later."

"Sure thing," Goat answered gleefully.

"Hey, Goat," David called as he stood next to the door of his car. "Thanks for everything."

Goat merely bowed theatrically. "Just don't scratch the paint job," he begged. Then he began to wheel Rosie up the flatbed and tie her down for the trip home.

David and Gabrielle slid into the car. The interior still smelled of cleaning solvents and new leather. David pulled his phone free and dialed Derek.

"Ce pasa, Cavrone!" Derek answered immediately.

"Hey Bullit," David asked. "Is she still with you?"

"Oh yeah," Derek was laughing. "And is she pissed!"

David grinned. "Have a drink for me at the Rock, we'll see you later."

"Right on." Derek replied. "Adios Muchachos."

David flipped the phone closed and turned the ignition. The Cutlass's engine growled to life immediately.

David looked over at Gabrielle. He kissed her and smiled.

"Let's go find this stone, shall we?"

Gabrielle pulled the amulet from her pocket and grinned.

The top pointed was glowing brightly.

"That way," She gestured.

"That way it is," David replied, and the car launched itself forward into the gloom.

TBC

18


	9. Thunderclap

**Thunderclap**

Alti stared out the window as the mass of motorcycles coasted past them a second time. She noted that several of the people riding past them had begun to give them suspicious looks.

Suddenly, she sat up straighter, her eyes wide. A large green and white three-wheeled motorcycle coasted past them. In the back seat of the vehicle, she caught a flicker of something.

Two helmets and a black coat lay in the back seat. Alti stared at the driver, a short, pudgy man, wearing full riding gear. Then her eyes fixed on the articles of gear in the back seat once more. They narrowed in suspicion, and then went wide.

"Stop the car!" she barked in fury. "Turn around!"

Finch expertly slowed the car and wheeled around in one of the narrow islands that dotted the interstate, he sped off back the way they had come.

"What is it?" he asked as they accelerated.

Alti was cursing elaborately in several languages. Her anger was burning through her, making her blood boil.

Something seemed to snap within her mind and she felt the power wash over her. Her magical blindness was gone!

"Pull over," Alti ordered. "Pull over now!"

The car screeched to a stop at the side of the road. Alti stepped out and breathed in the cool air, stretching her limbs and her mind.

Her mind drifted up and away, scanning for her prey. She found her easily enough. A soft white glow emanated from her that was easy to trace.

She found the car, coasting down a dark country road, its engine roaring.

She knew better than to attempt entry into this vehicle, lest the man do to her what he had done before. She could not risk discovery. She simply let her mind hover outside the moving vehicle, moving like a wraith around the exterior and peering within at the occupants. Alti could see her, looking down at the Amulet, her amulet. The topmost crystal pulsing like a living heartbeat. Gabrielle had a different light about her now, and it seemed to connect both of them together in some way.

"They're lovers," she thought with malicious glee. "Perfect."

11:35 PM

David and Gabrielle watched as the late night mists flowed past the windshield. As they drove, David and Gabrielle watched for the entrance to the Serpent Mound Memorial Park. The central upper crystal seemed to increase in intensity, as if telling them they were getting close. Suddenly David frowned as the car barreled through another bank of thick mist. He looked out the window and around.

"What?' Gabrielle asked, seeing concern on David's face.

David looked about for a few moments longer and then sighed. "Nothing. I guess I'm getting a bit paranoid." He tried to laugh it off, but the next bank of mist revealed the nebulous shape he had spied moments before, wraithlike as it circled the car.

"Ah, shit," he muttered. The cell phone rang.

David flipped it open. "Talk to me."

"Shaky, we got a problem," Tommy's voice sounded nervous.

"She dropped out of the pack and bugged out, right?"

"Bingo," Tommy replied. "I think she's on to you. Better hoof it."

"We're hoofing," David said grimly. "Later." He snapped the phone closed and looked at Gabrielle. "She figured it out and I think her abilities have come back."

"Is that what you saw?" Gabrielle asked nervously.

"I'd bet my trust fund on it," David replied. He pressed the accelerator down a little further. Suddenly, he slammed the brakes on and Panama came to a screeching halt before a yellow metallic gate. The sign upon it read "Authorized Personnel Only" and beneath it in smaller letters were the words "Serpent Mound Memorial Park."

David got out and popped the truck, removing a large pair of bolt cutters. He stepped over to the padlocked gate and easily snapped the lock, pushing the gate inward.

The car crunched forward on the gravel. He closed the gate and hung the lock back in place, then the car moved down the access road, engine rumbling.

"Keep going," Gabrielle said anxiously. The central crystal had begun to glow faintly.

Serpent mound was a two mile long section of raised earth that "snaked" its way in a tight winding path through the park to the site of an ancient Indian temple or burial mound. As David coasted the car through the misty night, he could felt the energy of the place building up as if anticipating the coming event.

"Who'd have thunk it," David smiled wryly. "The first stages of Armageddon would happen in my own back yard." He shook his head at the irony.

11:50 PM

Finch stopped the car at the gate and looked out into the shadows. He and Alti could barely make out the faint glowing of headlights further up the gravel road.

"It's them!" Alti smiled. "Go!"

Finch hit the accelerator and crashed through the flimsy gate. They stopped the car a little ways back and got out, moving quickly and quietly through the trees towards the other vehicle.

As Alti gazed up at the sky, she saw thick clouds beginning to form with unnatural swiftness, blotting out the pale blue moon. A subtle green glow could be seen within the clouds.

"Faster," she thought. "We have little time!" She looked over at Finch. "When we find them, kill the man. Leave the brat to me!"

"As you wish," Mr. Finch said agreeably.

11:55 PM – The Convergence Begins

Gabrielle and David followed the strange device to the center of a larger raised, flat area at the head of the mound. The green crystal was pulsing alone now.

"We're here," Gabrielle said, looking about the place.

David looked about, not really sure what to expect. Aside from the neatly trimmed grass beneath their feet, there was nothing.

"You sure?" he asked. "You're reading that thing right, right?"

Gabrielle's eyes also scanned the flat ground before her, her frustration building.

"It should be right here!" she said, her arm pointing at the ground before them.

"Well, its not," David replied. His eyes searched the cloudy heavens and he saw the build up of energy in the form of a lazy pale green spiral, high above them. "But something's definitely happening."

"So," Gabrielle asked helplessly. "What now?"

"Now," A menacing female voice answered. "We tend to the matter at hand."

Alti and Finch stepped up onto the mound. Alti's eyes locked on Gabrielle hungrily, while Finch kept his eyes on David.

"Finch?" Alti said. "At your leisure."

"Of course," Finch smiled politely.

The heavens above suddenly exploded with energy. A brilliant green vortex of power began slowly spiraling down towards the earth. At the same moment, the conical shape of the Chronos Stone seemed to materialize out of thin air, resting on the ground to receive the incoming torrent.

Gabrielle took a step forward.

"Finch!" Alti barked.

David saw the short silver revolver an instant before Finch fired. Something slammed into his upper chest and he staggered back and fell.

Gabrielle screamed in shock and paused, torn between running for the stone and running to aid her lover. She turned and, with tears in her eyes, ran after the Stone.

She dove beneath the falling bubble of energy as Alti brought it around her. The edge of the power nicked the heel of her boot and she saw the smoke from it as she lay on the ground.

Alti laughed out loud. "Foolish, child!" She cackled. "You're no match for my powers!"

Gabrielle rose to her feet and stared at Alti, tears steaming down her cheeks and rage boiling in her heart. Her gaze flicked to David, lying motionless outside the circle.

"You can't stay here!" she cried out in a hoarse sob. "I won't let you!"

Alti smiled at Gabrielle's bravado. "You have little choice, now."

Instantly, the world changed, and Gabrielle stood in a field, dressed in her regular clothes. Several yards away, Alti stood, now in her normal Shamaness regalia, her eyes alight with hunger.

"For me to return, one must die." She said hungrily. "Your soul will clear the way for my return to power!"

She reached out her hand and, like before, Gabrielle felt Alti's invisible fingers about her throat while at the same time, watching as Alti lifted another version of her from the ground, squeezing the life from her.

She remembered that trick. But this time, she was ready. Instead of fighting the feeling in one body, she willed the other body to move. Her double lashed out, boxing the Shamaness's ears with savage intensity.

Gabrielle felt the grip on her throat loosen as her double fell from her opponent's grasp and vanished.

Then Gabrielle lashed out with an attack of her own, attempting to trap Alti in a similar death grip, only to have Alti smile coldly and fling her back like a rag doll.

"You have no power over me here, child," she scoffed. "Time for you to join your lover!"

Finch smiled coldly as he moved around the perimeter of the circle, his gun trained on the motionless man. He saw the smoking hole in the jacket, on the right side of his chest, and shook his head. "Off by that much," he chided himself. He knelt down to inspect the wound and make certain his target was dead.

David's eyes popped open and his fist slammed into Finch's jaw. The man went rocking back, the gun falling from his fingers.

"Actually," David said as he leapt to his feet and continued the assault. His fist found Finch's face again and the man spun to the ground.

"It was a perfect shot," David rasped painfully. He lifted the outer garment revealing a large and now misshapen pin that had been riveted to his coat. At the center of it were the mashed remains of Finch's expended bullet.

David's foot kicked up into Finch's face and blood erupted from his mouth as he rocked backwards on the ground. He got up and raised his hands; a razor was in one of them.

David only smiled fiercely.

"Oh, yeah?" he growled. "Come on! Cut me! Cut me deep you son of a bitch!"

Finch slid in and slashed with the weapon. David's martial training took over and he trapped the razor, feeling it slice into his inner arm, then he had Finch standing straight up and his hand came around in a vicious chop that knocked the killer to the ground with a bone jarring thud.

David stooped and picked up the razor, and then threw it into the darkness.

"You'll have to do better than that," he growled. Finch was up again, backing away in sudden fear. Then something hardened in his face, and Finch charged in like an animal. David met the charge easily and deflected him into the ground near the edge of the vortex.

"You mess with me," David said, slamming his fist into Finch's bloody face again. The man staggered. "You mess with my friends!" David continued. He struck Finch again. The man stood, dumb from the impact, hands hanging at his sides.

"You mess with my whole life!" David bellowed in rage and he struck Finch in rapid succession in the body and face before wrapping his head under David's left arm and spinning him so that Finch saw the roiling clouds above.

"_I know no beast that has but some touch of pity,"_ David quoted. He wrenched upwards and felt Finch's neck snap. Then he flipped him forward into the wall of the vortex. Finch's semi-lifeless body dissolved in the torrent of energy.

"_But I have none, and therefore am no beast." _He studied the scene beyond the wall of energy.

The two women were facing off as Gabrielle fought a war of wills over control of the Chronos Stone. It was immediately apparent to David that Gabrielle was not faring well.

David stepped forward, his hand out to the wall of energy. He felt it scorch his flesh on contact and cried out in pain as he jumped back.

"No cheating," a voice said calmly from behind him. "You remember our agreement?"

David turned and saw Ares standing against a nearby tree, surveying the action within the circle.

He had that same self-engrossed grin on his face.

"She can't win!" David cried.

"She was never supposed to win!" Ares shot back. "She was supposed to try, and in so doing, weaken Alti to a point that, even in victory, she could do nothing."

"What?" David threw his arms out. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Leave it alone," Ares barked. "Your part is over." He snapped his fingers and smiled that interminable smile. "Oh, that reminds me." He stretched out his hand and David felt something pull from inside him. The "gifts" Ares had bestowed were suddenly gone. "You and yours were never a part of the deal." He shrugged.

"She's gonna die!" David cried in desperation.

Ares merely shrugged. "The alternative is a lot worse."

David stormed towards the barrier.

"You can't help her!" Ares shouted from behind him.

David wheeled about, his eyes afire.

"I won't lose her!" he cried.

Ares stepped away from the tree, stalking towards him. "She was never yours to lose!" he bellowed back. "If she dies here, she dies among friends, with someone she cares about! If she survives, she goes back and she ends up dead at the hands of some bounty hunter, compliments of Gurkan! You know, the guy who likes to play Palace Guard in his own house? Either way, she's already dead! She's been dead to your world for more than two thousand years!" His roar died and he smiled coldly. "Let it be. There's nothing you could do anyway."

David lashed out and his fist landed squarely on Ares' jaw. The God of War staggered back a step and looked back at him with amusement.

"Watch me," David growled. He turned back to the wall of energy.

"It's gonna hurt a lot!" Ares called after him, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "What I could do with a dozen like this one?"

David's hands touched the wall again, and he felt the jolt of power course through him, knocking him back to the ground.

"It's energy," he growled, getting back on his feet and ignoring the tingling sensation in his lower arms. He licked his fingertips and stretched out his hands again. "Just like tuning a piano. Find the right pitch."

This time he held his hands in contact for a few seconds longer before stepping back.

Gabrielle felt the cold vise clamping onto her heart as Alti reached through her chest. She struggled to pull away from the Shamaness, but she was pinned and unable to move. The universe was beginning to fade from consciousness when suddenly, the pressure ceased.

She looked over weakly as the edge of reality rippled with crackling bursts of power. A hand pushed through with determined strength.

"It's not possible," Alti gasped. She focused her mental energy into the barrier, trying to reinforce it, but the apparition continued to press inexorably through.

Gabrielle rolled weakly away, trying to get closer to the Chronos Stone and seize it.

Alti waved her hand sharply, and Gabrielle was sent rolling away from her prize as if she had been struck.

A thundering bellow resonated in the small reality as David's face broke through the invisible wall between the real world and this false one. He roared in pain and determination, his body smoking from the energy that surged through him as he pushed through with glacial determination.

Both Alti and Gabrielle looked at the sight with gaping wonder.

Lightning crackled about him and rolled over him, scorching his clothing and his flesh as he came. He finally broke free and staggered a few steps, bent double from the pain, and then he stood up, his entire body smoking.

"Yes!" He roared. He shook his head to clear the pain and howled. "Oh, that'll wake you up in the morning boys!" he shouted, his face an expression of tortured joy. Then his eyes fixed on Alti and she beheld the same man from her last encounter, wolfish and savage, filled with malicious hunger.

"You shouldn't be able to do that!" Alti cried out.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" David bellowed. He stalked quickly forward and rammed his fist into the Shamaness's face. There was a flash of expended energy and the old shamaness was flung onto her back. She rolled over and looked up at David hungrily, licking her lips.

"Pick on someone your own voltage!" David challenged her.

"Oh," Alti said in a suddenly calm, calculating voice. "That was good. You have strength, my friend. Why are you wasting it on her? You could be so much more if you join me!"

David didn't answer, but instead let loose with a blast of lightning that arced and wreathed about the old shamaness. Alti raised her hands, crossing them over her chest, palms out. Instead of causing her harm, the energy expended itself on an invisible barrier, mere inches from her body. Her gaze was intense from the strain as she repelled David's onslaught.

David focused his entire being on penetrating that defense. He could feel the energy that had been stored within him for so long, draining away faster than anticipated. What had for the longest time felt like too much was suddenly insufficient for the task at hand.

Alti managed a smile and settled herself back down before the stone, her eyes fixed on the heavens in anticipation. The alignment finally reached its apex and the vortex of energy seemed to fill the entire place. The wind howled and crackled with green fire as it was drawn down into the glowing stone. David could see the shadowy shapes of the coven, standing in the ritual room, so many miles away, chanting spells to stay the opening of this portal, but it was evident that nothing short of an act of God would stop it.

At the moment, God seemed rather busy, somewhere else.

Alti's eyes closed in rapture as the energy diffused itself within the stone and then flowed into her body. David could see the fusion of the two aspects of the Shamaness's soul molding together. The ancient shaman was becoming a whole being right before his eyes. The transition of energy was both horrible and fascinating to behold.

David was filled with a sudden rage at his own inability. In that brief, desperate moment, he recalled his conversation with Shilah, nearly two weeks prior.

"A battery," he realized. "An overcharged battery!"

Gabrielle slowly got to her knees and looked over in his direction. She read his intention and her mouth opened to cry out.

David stalked towards Alti and towards the stone. The energy around Alti was a glowing sphere of power. He staggered into that spinning chaos and fell to his knees allowing the raw energy of that exchange to enter his body, filling the empty well of power he so desperately needed. Alti clutched the stone in her hands, desperately, as David lay his hands over hers and willed the energy to enter him. In a flash, the power was diverted from her. It raged like an ocean during a hurricane, washing over David again and again in waves of pain so pure that white was all he saw. He fixed his gaze on Alti, now staring at him in disbelief. Then she began to pull the energy back towards her, attempting to force the transformation. It was a temporal tug of war as the two bodies strove to monopolize the energies of the universe. David could feel the clawing of her mind as she sought for the energy to complete her task. At the same time, he could feel the level rising within him, like a wave of pressure reaching a critical point before explosion.

"You cannot stop me," she said through clenched teeth. "I have all the powers of the Dark Arts at my call!"

"Dark arts?" David said, breathing hard. "All the powers of the Dark Arts?" He grinned maniacally like a rabid beast.

"Bitch, you're only batting five hundred!" He stared at her through the windows of pain.

He could see Gabrielle kneeling on the edge of the chaos, her expression one of fear. She tried to reach David, but the energy forced her back with fiery determination.

"I also have the Dark!" David said through clenched teeth. "But I have more than that! I have light!" and she recoiled under a sudden blast. "I have sorrow!" Another lash. "Joy!" And another lash. "Screams! Songs! Despair! Elation! Friendship! Solitude! Hate!"

Each word was a command that pulsed energy into the shamaness, knocking her further and further back. The universe of the dreamscape was faltering, and reality was reasserting itself.

David reached out and grabbed the throat of his opponent, watching as the consciousness returned to her eyes.

"And I got the one thing that you don't!" he roared. David looked over at Gabrielle and the pain in his body vanished in the sight of her. He realized what he had to do. "Love!"

The built up energy that Alti was attempting to pull from him blasted into her in one massive, devastating pulse. She screamed in sudden agony and patches of her flesh seemed to blister and char in that instant as webs of uncontrolled energy snaked over her body. Her eyes went wide and she toppled to one side, quivering. At the same moment, the dreamscape collapsed and David felt the damp cool of reality around him.

David staggered back a few steps and sank to the ground. He rolled back over and looked at Alti, smoking on the ground. A tormented, yet strangely satisfied smile formed on his lips and then his body convulsed in pain and exhaustion.

The vortex, now expended, faded to nothing as the planets moved out of their alignment and the world became still and silent. David gazed up into the last whispers of that energy.

He suddenly felt weak. Weaker than he could ever remember feeling in his entire life. Weaker even than when he had survived the crash a few days past. He stumbled painfully back to his feet and staggered a few more steps towards Gabrielle, before collapsing again, completely spent. Gabrielle also got to her feet and came over to him. She knelt down and held his head in her lap, smiling.

"You did it," she said, stroking his hair. David smiled through the numbing pain.

"Uh, uh," he corrected her. "We did it."

Gabrielle let him lay back down and turned towards the center of the circle. There in the grass sat the Chronos Stone, still glowing brightly in the darkness. She stepped toward it and knelt down.

"No!" David tried to cry, but his voice was gone and he could barely breathe, his hands clawed at the frozen ground as he tried to stop her.

"Don't touch it!"

She took the stone and pulled it to her. Immediately it began to pulse with renewed internal fire.

Gabrielle looked up at David, and he saw the shock and understanding in her gaze.

He tried to will the power to cease. Tried to reach his mind out to that stone and force it to die, instead there was a flash of green, and Gabrielle sat beaten, bruised and beautiful, bathed in a fresh green glow.

"Gabrielle!" David croaked in desperation. He clawed his way through the frigid mud, reaching for her. His hand bounced against the green shell of light that encircled her. He saw her call his name, saw her hand reach out to him. Felt the terror and loss in her gaze as they both realized what was about to happen and then she faded from his sight and was gone.

Somewhere in the back of David's mind, he heard a heart rending cry of agony. Only dimly was he aware that it was his voice.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Alti slowly getting to her feet, her clothes and body still steaming from the transformation. She was laughing with manic glee.

"No," David groaned, forcing his leaden limbs to move.

Alti stood, tall and proud, looking down at her hands in wonder. The irritating voice to the late professor was gone at last! She was whole once more!

She turned at the sound of David's groan and smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "I needed one soul to exchange for my own." She shrugged. "I suppose Finch was as good as any."

"No!" David roared hoarsely as he struggled to his feet and fell down again.

"This has really been entertaining," Alti said darkly. "But I think its time for you to die now." She stretched her hands out and stared at him coldly.

Nothing happened. She paused, suddenly alarmed, then she repeated the action.

David laughed hoarsely, his body wracked with pain as he got to his knees.

"Welcome to the twenty first century, bitch!" he growled. He staggered up to his feet, his gaze dark and filled with heart broken rage. "Looks like you needed the soul of a Shamaness to stay a Shamaness!"

His face twisted into a cold, malicious, savage grin. He stumbled up to his feet, letting the pain of the movement feed his rage instead of adding to his heartbreak.

"You may be alive now!" he rasped. "Enjoy it while you can!"

"You can't harm me!" Alti cried, suddenly nervous in her vulnerability.

David's eyes went completely black with anger – or perhaps madness. His lips twitched as he muttered to himself.

"_I know no beast that had but some touch of pity. Yet I have none, and therefore am no beast,"_ He hissed.

He staggered towards her, the intent in his eyes was perfectly clear. Those words repeating mechanically from his lips.

Alti saw her death in this man's eyes and she backed away. Even if she had been in control of all her old powers, she doubted if she would have been able to stop him. He was consumed with rage and pain. His very essence of goodness seemed smothered in a dark blanket of insanity.

She backed away, looking behind her towards the spot where Finch had parked the car.

"I know no beast that has but some touch of pity. Yet, I have none, and therefore am no beast."

Alti turned and bolted towards the waiting car, her mind suddenly filled with the sensation of panic, a feeling that she had never experienced before. She ran, still seeing the image of that man, dressed in the long dark coat, stalking after her.

"_I know no beast that has but some touch of pity. Yet, I have none, and therefore am no beast."_

She got to the car and dove into the driver seat. Her newly acquired experience from the late professor told her how to operate the vehicle and the black Chevy careened out of the park and down the dark country road.

Alti looked in the rearview mirror and let a sigh of relief escape her lips. Then she saw the headlights behind her. No matter, this vehicle was the same as the ones that the local law enforcement officials used. It was built for speed. She pressed the accelerator down and felt the car respond. She focused her eyes on the dark stretch of road ahead.

The headlights stayed behind her, and much to her shock and growing horror, they were closing.

Panama's engine roared with fury as the Cutlass rocketed through the thick night air, slowly, inexorably, gaining on its prey. Behind the wheel, David sat, eyes locked straight ahead, his lips moving automatically as he felt his enemy being drawn into his grasp.

A voice tried to cut through the madness that had consumed him.

"Okay," Ares said nervously, sitting beside him in the car. "I admit that I was a bit harsh with you."

"_I know no beast that has but some touch of pity. Yet, I have none, and therefore am no beast."_

"And, I agree," Ares continued. "This was a bad setup from the start. Fine. But you could do so much more, provided you don't kill yourself tonight!" He grasped the dashboard as the car screamed around a bend in the road.

"I've had an idea," Ares said, trying to sound casual. "I think you and I could do some really interesting things together. If you would just let her go!"

David's eyes didn't move, they didn't even flicker in his direction. The God of war was not used to being ignored, but he simply swallowed that miniscule bit of pride and grunted as Panama navigated several small bends and a couple of hills. He felt the suspension protest as the car launched itself into the air as it crested each one. Sparks erupted as the metal contacted the road with each landing.

"_I know no beast that has but some touch of pity. Yet, I have none, and therefore am no beast."_

David's thumb hovered over a small red button on the front of the shifter. The words "oh shit" embossed in black on the white cover.

"David," Ares said, trying to sound agreeable in spite of the nervousness that even he was feeling. He had seen madness before, both temporary and permanent, and he wasn't sure which category David currently fell in. "You could do so much more than just this. You can be a lot more, with my help. You know that!"

For the first time, David's eyes drifted over to look at Ares. The gaze sent a chill up the War God's spine.

"I am," David said absently. "Exactly what you made me."

His finger pressed the button.

Panama's engine screamed as the tank of Nitrous Oxide emptied its contents into the injection system. The rear end of Alti's car rushed up towards him as he slammed the accelerator to the floor. There was a brilliant flash and a small explosion as the Cutlass's front end blasted into the rear of the Chevy. Both cars went sailing off the road in a tumble of earth, rocks, and metallic components.

The Cutlass flipped and bounced sideways while Alti's car rolled end over end once before slamming into the trunk of a massive old tree.

David opened his eye; the other was blind for some reason. He clawed his way out of the tangled wreckage that had been his car. He felt the earth beneath him and noticed that his left arm was useless, wreathed in fire. Something wet coated his face, and he felt the wind blowing through the numerous rips and gashes in his clothes and flesh.

He saw the steaming wreck of Alti's car and moved towards it. He felt the fire shooting up his left side. His lungs were on fire. Every move was an accentuation of the pain he felt in his very soul. He slumped against the rear of Alti's wrecked vehicle and pulled himself around to the driver's side door.

"_I know no beast that has but some touch of pity. Yet, I have none, and therefore am no beast."_

David wrenched the door open and reached within to grasp the throat of the woman that had cost him his only remaining chance for happiness. There was nothing there. His fingers snapped on vacant air. Alti was gone.

David stared, bloody and in pain, at the place where his nemesis had sat.

Another wail burst from him and he fell to the earth, feeling the universe slowly return to its normal rhythms beneath him, then all went dark.

He remembered the red flashes of light. A part of him knew that he was in the ambulance. That people were working to save his life.

"Just let me go," his mind cried in despair.

They didn't let him go. When he awoke, he saw the pale white light reflected off the ceiling. He could hear the constant "beep-beep-beep" of the monitor. His arms and legs were bandaged, and gauze obscured the vision from his left eye.

Through the drug-induced haze, he caught a sight of dark hair. A figure was seated next to him, her head resting on the mattress at his side.

"Gabrielle?" he croaked.

Katrina sat up from her involuntary nap and looked at him, alive and awake, though completely dazed.

"Shakespeare?" she asked timidly as she leaned closer to him.

"Gabrielle?" David asked again, his voice thick and hoarse.

Fingers stroked his hair, and his eyes closed. The tears began to flow. They weren't Gabrielle's fingers. It wasn't her voice. The sobs began slowly, making his entire body quiver and reawakening the pain he felt in his limbs.

"God," Katrina whispered, feeling her own tears well up in her eyes. "My poor, poor, beautiful man." She kissed his cheek and held him gently as he gave himself wholly over to grief.

Gabrielle was gone.

TBC

13


	10. 18 Months Later

**18 Months Later**

The middle aged man left his rental car on the street and trudged doggedly up the smooth blacktop driveway for the sixth time in two weeks. He took a handkerchief from within his tweed jacket and mopped his balding head, squinting up through the humid air at the burning sun. He sighed and continued to the small side stoop that led into the kitchen of the house.

As he peeked inside, he spied Prospero lounging lazily on top of the kitchen counter, his big, pale green eyes stared out of his black furry face inquisitively, and then he went back to cleaning himself.

"Oh, if only I could leave the message with you, my feline friend," The man said in a smooth British accent.

He sat himself down on the low concrete step and waited, occasionally mopping his brow or face as he sat, baking in the hot July sun.

Turning his head, he surveyed the dwelling. It was a modest, brown and yellow, three bedroom home in a simple, unassuming neighborhood. The old man smiled wryly. "You'd never know a millionaire lived here."

Of course, that was what he had wanted. David had always desired a low profile. Let his money rest in the bank and let him live a simple life. Here, in this place, the only apparent difference was that his home was paid for, while most others were still paying a mortgage.

After what seemed a short eternity, his patience was rewarded by the approaching sound of a motorcycle engine. It decelerated and the man saw a large, lithe man on a dark red motorcycle coast into the driveway, his hair streaming behind him, eyes hidden behind red lenses.

He wore a pair of jeans, black boots and a leather vest, adorned with various pins and patches. His face was set and grim, accented by a close cropped beard and moustache. The motorcycle coasted past him as if he were not even there. A garage opened behind the house and the vehicle vanished within.

The old man saw the glow of red tail lights and then the thumping of the engine fell silent. The old man waited, watching as a shadow moved about the silent machine for a few moments, then the rider emerged, carrying a bundle of clothes and a leather jacket draped over his arm and a large duffel bag over his other shoulder.

"David?" the man said as he stood up from his place. "David Forester?"

The rider stopped short and his mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"Professor MacGhee," David said. "What the hell are you doing here?" He pushed past the professor and inserted his key into the door.

"I need to speak with you," MacGhee said.

"Come on in," David replied. He opened the door and pushed inside, depositing his jacket on the dusty kitchen table. Then he stomped down a short flight of steps, turning right into a small laundry room. He tossed the bundle of dirty clothes in and turned the knob, pouring in some detergent.

Professor MacGhee followed David down the steps, studying him intently.

David let the lid of the washer fall with a clatter and walked back out into the basement, moving behind a small wet bar. He fished out a large bottle of Southern Comfort and a glass.

"You wanted to talk?" David asked as he also fished out a cigar and bit the end off. "So, talk."

Professor Arlan MacGhee regarded his former student carefully. There was a solitary demeanor about this man that he couldn't ever recall seeing before. Something dark and sinister lurked behind those red mirrored glasses. The professor cleared his throat suddenly.

"Yes, there's something rather odd about a dig that I've recently taken over, and I felt that I should discuss it with you directly."

"Why?" David asked. "I haven't been involved in a dig in nearly six years? Not since graduate school?"

"Because you were mentioned," Professor MacGhee said cryptically. "By name." The professor looked at David for a long moment, standing there, leaning against the bar, a drink in his hand, and the cigar clenched between his teeth. There was something about this former student that sent a chill up his spine. He was not the same man he had known. Anger surrounded him like a dark cloud, barely contained within his muscular frame.

"What's happened to you, David?" he asked. "At first, I thought that this whole situation might have been some type of elaborate joke?" His voice caught. "But I think you haven't joked with anyone for quite some time?"

"Would you mind getting to the point, Professor?" David asked, slamming down his drink and refilling the glass. "I have a lot to do."

"And what is it that you are doing? the Professor asked. "Why is it that, for nearly a fortnight, I have been to this house and not found you in it? How those people that knew you, could not give me any information about your whereabouts?"

"I've been busy," David said icily.

"Doing what?" The Professor asked gently.

"Looking for someone," David replied. There was an air of menace in the way he made that statement. "You said I was mentioned by name?"

Arlan swallowed down a sudden chill and lifted his brown attaché case to the bar. The locks popped and he removed a thick manila envelope.

"Yes, well," he began. "There I was in Lancaster, enjoying a well deserved retirement, don't you know, when I get a call from the head of the Archeology department at Oxford, asking me to come in and assume management of a site that had been found nearly two years prior." He sighed. "Not knowing any better, I agreed and landed myself in a cesspool of intrigue."

He removed a single image and set it on the table.

"This is the Potedia Archeological site," He said. "About twenty miles northeast of Athens, in the Greek countryside. Do you know the place?" His eyebrows rose inquisitively.

"I know the name," David said smoothly.

"Ah," Arlan nodded. "I thought you might. Then perhaps you also know something of my predecessor, Professor Bernadette Klaus, out of the University of Berlin?"

The old professor saw David go rigid at the mention of that name. A curious smile tugged at the mouth behind the thick gray goatee.

"I heard something about her over a year ago," David answered, but his voice was tight, as if something was beginning to boil within him. "Do you know where she is?"

"No," Arlan said. "That's a big part of the mystery. No one knows where she is. She abandoned the site and her personnel nearly two years ago. No one has been able to contact her since." He shrugged. He adjusted the wire-rimmed spectacles on the end of his nose and removed a thick stapled stack of paper, setting them on the bar and pushing them towards him for inspection. "Now," he said in the same voice he would use when he was testing one of his students. "Tell me what you deduce from this?"

David suppressed a sigh. He had things to do. His last lead had turned up nothing and he was anxious to continue his search. He looked down at the photocopied pages; browsing through them quickly, then his face dropped nearer and he removed the sunglasses.

For the first time, Professor MacGhee saw the scar that crossed over his left eye. It was jagged, shaped like a four-pointed star, and a deep red in color.

"Good, God," Arlan said. "When did that happen?"

"A little over a year ago," David answered mechanically. Something in the notes had caught his attention.

"And your eye?" Arlan asked, noting that it did not move with the same ease as his right one.

"Glass," David said, and then he frowned.

"Wait a minute," he lifted the pages up and flipped through them again. "This is all wrong. What a freakin mess!"

"I agree." Arlan smiled. He cleared his that uncomfortably. "You lost your eye?"

David read through the copied, hand written notes again. They were in a neat, quick, spidery hand. However the subject matter jumped from one site to the next in an awkward, random order. First, describing a stone foundation of a building, then an opening in a cave nearby, then back to a ruined temple, discovered near the center of the ancient community.

"She found the foundations of the village and began an excavation there," David said. "Then, for no apparent reason, she packed it up and began to bounce about. She didn't even bother to protect the sites she abandoned?"  
"Precisely," the Professor said proudly. "She was looking for something specific."

"All the dig sites and soil tests moved steadily west to the base of several craggy hills, and then there was a cluster of notes about several tombs unearthed on the eastern and southern face of the hill." David frowned.

"Yes," Arlan said again. "You begin to understand." He took another pile of paper out of his case and set them down.

"As you are well aware," he said studiously. "Any artifacts that are discovered are immediately preserved and then sent on to the laboratory for study, carbon dating, and all that." He flipped through them and pulled one free. "Here is a list of everything that was cataloged just prior to her disappearance," he handed the paper over. "And here is a list of everything that was actually sent."

"Actually?" David frowned, looking down at the two lists. He found the discrepancy immediately and sighed.

"Yes," Arlan said. He leaned on the bar and looked at a bottle of wine resting on a rack. "May I?" he asked.

David poured him a glass and settled back to review the collected notes. Suddenly, his desire to leave had been overwhelmed by his curiosity.

Arlan sipped the wine and nodded in approval. Then he gestured to the notes.

"Understand," he said. "I knew Bernadette. I had worked with her on several digs over the past ten years and I never saw a more thorough and conscientious individual in my entire life. She was almost obsessive about keeping everything neat and tidy. These records do not read like her. Yet they aren't forgeries, and nothing is missing. At least as far as we can tell."

David continued to peruse the inconsistent entries. "Oh, she was obsessing all right," he muttered. The memories began to filter back to him along with his desire for blood.

"Getting back to these manifests," Arlan took up the two sheets of paper again. "It's obvious to me that an artifact was removed from the site without proper authorization." He read the catalog list.

"A silver crystal amulet, in the shape of a four pointed star, with a semi-opaque green crystal, possibly emerald, in the center, surrounded by four other clear crystals that do not show the durability of diamond, though they are nearly clear and flawless."

David nodded. "The Amulet of Tachos."

Arlan looked up at him and swiped his spectacles from his face.

"Now, how in the duces do you know that?" he asked sharply.

"You don't want to know," David said soberly, refilling his glass for a third time.

"Yes, David," Arlan said. "I do."

David looked at the briefcase. "What else have you got?"

"David?"

"What else?" David shot back with equal force.

Arlan was taken aback by the younger man's sudden vehemence. He lifted another envelope and set it down, but did not open it.

"Very well," he said. "In exchange for an explanation from you, agreed?"

David nodded. "Agreed."

"Right," Arlan opened the file and removed several more recent documents and photographs.

"Now," he began again. "As you know, during an excavation, there is always a concern about contamination. Any modern contamination of a site can invalidate any hypotheses generated up to that point."

"I know the rules," David said.

"Well," Arlan said in a huff. "I cannot report contamination of a dig site unless it is genuine. It is either present, or not present."

"That follows," David agreed.

"So, imagine my surprise when we discover contamination on a family tomb, which actually turns out to not be contamination."

"Say that again?" David asked.

Arlan handed David a stack of photographs and several scientific reports.

"These are the results of carbon dating done on several articles of clothing that were recovered from one of the sites." He said. "Now, the rear half of the site had collapsed over time and our crew was still in the process of excavating it when I left two weeks ago." He pointed to a short series of numbers.

"As you can plainly see, most of the articles of clothing removed from the first sarcophagus date back to the Classical Period in Greco-Roman history."

David nodded, his old school lessons coming back to him.

"So," Arlan said, his voice becoming gruff. "Imagine my considerable consternation when, in addition to the dated material here, we also discover other articles of clothing that are constructed from a modern fabric."

"How modern?' David asked.

"Very modern!" Arlan said indignantly. He pressed another small picture to David. "And then we find this! This really put the tin hat on it!"

David looked at the image, and for the first time, a genuinely amused smile crossed his face. He laughed out loud as he looked at the worn and faded nylon tag. The words "Machine Wash Cold – Tumble Dry Medium" still plainly visible. Above it, he could still make out a faded tip of an orange wing. Part of a Harley Davidson logo.

"Kiss my dick," he said, laughing.

"I beg your pardon?" Arlan asked.

David set the picture down and leaned back against the shelves behind him, looking at his old teacher with a bemused expression.

"Congratulations, Professor," he said. "You've found her."

"Found who?" Arlan protested. "Found what?"

David refilled the professor's glass and his own.

"Remember, about seventy years ago?" David said. "When that British/American expedition in Mesopotamia found all those scrolls?"

"Yes, it was quite a scandal in the archeological community." Arlan said. "They kept it all very hush-hush."

"Yeah, the information in those scrolls would have forced a major rewrite of every modern history book for that era, had they been made public." David sighed.

"They ended up in a trunk in someone's attic and were eventually forgotten until a wannabe screenwriter presented them to a television producer back in the mid nineties."

"I didn't follow the results, but I know what you're referring to. They turned them into entertainment for mostly American audiences, if I remember rightly?"

David smiled. "Well, Professor. You've found the woman that wrote them."

Arlan suddenly choked on the wine he was drinking. "What?"

David only nodded, and his smile changed to one of wistful regret. "You found Gabrielle." He felt the emotion churn at the mention of her name, and realized that he had not spoken it aloud for more than a year.

"And how in the blazes would you deduce that?" Arlan asked. "And how does that explain the contamination, that isn't really contamination, at my dig site?"

"You really want to hear the whole story?" David asked, suddenly unsure if he could retell it and maintain his composure. His demeanor shifted to something more subdued.

"Yes." Arlan answered. "Absolutely."

"No matter how wild it might be?" David asked.

"I like to think I have an open mind, young man?" Arlan said, suddenly wanting to brace himself.

David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened a drawer and fumbled about for a moment.

Arlan watched in stupefied amazement as David set the Amulet of Tachos on the bar between them.

"I think I should begin with this," he said. "I believe you'll find that this is the missing artifact from the dig site."

Professor Arlan MacGhee sat down on the stool, too stunned to do anything more than simply stare at it in wonder, his mouth agape.

"My God," he finally breathed as he tentatively reached out to touch it. "I think you had better start explaining yourself?"

With that, David told his teacher the entire story, from beginning to end. Everything about Gabrielle's arrival that fateful night, the dangerous adventure to recapture the Chronos Stone, Professor Klaus's murderous transformation into the woman he knew as Alti, and his loss of Gabrielle at the end, right up to the point where he rammed his car into the rear of Alti's fleeing vehicle.

"I woke up in the hospital, three days later," he said. "It took a few months for me to get back on my feet. I've been hunting for her ever since." His finger touched the edge of his scar. "I owe her for this, among other things."

Arlan sat back suddenly exhausted. He refilled his own wineglass and took a large swallow.

"Dear God," he whispered again. "She was actually here?" He looked about the room as if he expected her to walk out of the air.

David's face fell towards the ground. "Yup."

Arlan suddenly felt the man's pain.

"Oh, David," he said suddenly. "Forgive me. I'm so sorry. It's just so – remarkable!"

"Yes," David said. "She was."

Suddenly, David looked up with the most emotion that the Professor had seen thus far.

"I want to see her," he said earnestly.

"David," Arlan put a reassuring hand on David's. "She's gone, my boy. She's been gone, now, for more than two millennia."

"Not to me," David said, his voice suddenly hoarse. "To me, she's only been gone a little more than a year, and I miss her as much now as I did a year ago."

David turned and walked out from behind the bar.

"David," Arlan asked gently. "What are you hoping to find?"

"I don't know," David said honestly. He turned back to the Professor. "When my wife died, there was a service, a wake, a funeral, the whole thing. With Gabrielle?" He snapped his fingers. "She was gone. Maybe I'm looking for closure to this? Maybe I just want to see what's left of her so that I'll finally accept that she really is gone? I can't say."

Arlan looked thoughtful for a moment, then he nodded. "I think I understand. I need to fly back tomorrow. I'll arrange the necessary paperwork. Passes and the like. Follow me when you're ready."

The professor began shuffling the papers back into the briefcase, and then he paused, reaching into the top pocket and drawing out another printed page. He pressed it into David's hand.

"This is the reason I came looking for you," he explained. "It's a translation of a scroll that we discovered in the–" he stopped. "It was with her," he finally said. "It may help, or not. I don't know, really? But I think you should read it." He snapped the case closed and stood. Then he wrote down a phone number.

"This is the number and name of the hotel where I'm staying," he said. "Call me if you need to talk later? I don't think I'll be getting much sleep tonight." With that, he politely excused himself and left.

David stood in the middle of his basement, reluctant, suddenly, to raise the paper to his eyes. His arm suddenly felt heavy. He took several deep breaths and raised the paper to his eyes. With great effort, he began to read.

When it was over, he was seated on the barstool, the tears streaming down his face as all the emotion began to find a way out of him. The blind thirst for vengeance washed away, leaving only the feelings that he still had for her.

He smoothed the translation lovingly, and then rose and grabbed the phone. He dialed a number and waited. The line clicked.

"Professor?" David said calmly. "What time's your flight?" He jotted down the information and disconnected the call. Then he dialed again quickly. This time, a smooth middle aged voice answered.

"Tom Eardley?"

"Tom," David said, trying to sound upbeat. "Hi, there. David Forester here."

"Good evening David," the man replied cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"I need a favor," David said. "I want you to transfer twenty-five thousand dollars into the liquid account tied to my card."

"Twenty-five?" the banker replied in surprise. "That's an awfully large amount. Are you planning on making a big purchase? If so, I know a few other ways that we can do it without depleting the main fund too-"

"Nothing like that, Tom. Really," David said quickly. "I'm leaving the country for a few weeks, maybe longer, and I want to make sure I have enough liquid cash for it."

Tom clearly wasn't pleased. "Well, I can think of a few better ways to do that, but you're the boss. I'll take care of it first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, Tom," David said evenly. "I'll talk to you soon."

David grabbed the phone book and dialed another number.

"Good evening," he said. "I need to set up a shipment overseas, air freight, Chicago to Athens, tomorrow. A motorcycle. Yes, I realize that it will cost more with this short notice, I don't care. Yes, I have the flight information."

A few minutes later, the flight was booked and the freight carrier notified. He gave the card information for payment and then quickly packed the saddlebags on Rosie and a small duffel bag.

When Professor MacGhee reached his departure gate the next morning, he immediately noted the tall, longhaired man standing at the window, wearing a dark red button down shirt and black leather biker vest. He stood, poised, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the activity on the ramp below.

Arlan smiled and stepped over next to him, looking down at the crew loading the plane. He saw David's bike, strapped securely to a pallet, and being loaded gently into the aircraft. Several of the men working the plane looked up to see the imposing figure watching them and they took extra care not to do anything that could damage the bike.

"You know," Arlan said, leaning closer. "You can rent one of those in Greece."

David's eyes never left his beloved Rosie as she disappeared into the forward cargo compartment.

"I know," David said. "But I owe her."

"Owe who?"

David nodded towards the bike. "I owe her a tour of Europe."

"The motorcycle?"

David smiled. "If you don't ride one, you'd never understand."

"Well, then," Arlan said with a grunt. "If ignorance is bliss, then I shall remain a happy man regarding that subject."

David turned to face him and his smile, though grim, was evident.

"Thank you, Professor," he said. "Thank you for coming to find me, and for bringing me that translation."

Arlan merely shrugged. "It was no trouble, really. Though it was a great surprise."

"You have the Amulet?" David asked. The old man patted his ever-present briefcase.

"Safely tucked away for the journey."

David nodded. "Good. I think you should send it directly to Athens when we arrive. It's caused enough trouble."

"On that, I think we can agree," Arlan nodded. He looked over at the entrance to the jet bridge. "In the meantime, shall we?"

David nodded and the two men boarded the plane.

Susan Wood was in her sixth year, heading for her Doctorate in History. She had been a part of many digs, all around the globe, interning with one professor or another. This dig, however, had been the wildest ride she had ever been on. She stared down at the ancient garment with its modern design, fabric, and that damned nylon tag.

"If you look at it long enough," a cheerful voice said off to one side, "you can actually see the cloth decomposing."

Robert Bennett, age twenty-three, also interning on the dig, entered the large tent bearing a tray of more artifacts collected from the tombs. "More pieces of the puzzle," he announced, gently setting the tray on an adjacent table.

"Anything interesting?" Susan asked, rubbing her eyes.

"More interesting than the clothing?" Robert answered. "No. But interesting none the less."

He handed her a recently received fax.

"It's final results of the post mortem on the body," Robert said. "Female, between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. Death was the result of a single intrusion by a sharp object through the heart. Other injuries were also present just prior to death, indicating that she had probably been tortured."

Susan shuddered as she read the list of cursory injuries. She pursed her lips. "When will we have access to the last coffin?" she asked impatiently.

Robert shrugged as he studied several pieces and began to experimentally try and match pieces together. "Probably another day or so. What's your hurry?"

"I don't know," Susan confessed. "I just think we haven't seen all the surprises in that particular tomb." She shrugged. "Maybe we'll find something that sheds light on this?"  
She gestured to the garment again.

"Well," Robert said, still gently fishing about the tray. "The Professor's friend is scheduled to arrive this afternoon. Maybe he'll know something we don't?"

"Yeah?" Susan asked. "Who is this guy? Some stuffy overpaid doctor with a hair up his ass?"

Robert smiled as he continued his examinations. Both of them paused when they heard the sound of a motorcycle approaching. They looked at each other as they heard the sound coasting up the gravel road to stop outside the tent.

Robert and Susan both shrugged in confusion before moving towards the open tent flap. Outside they heard Professor MacGhee's voice.

"Ah, David," he greeted. "It's about time, young man."

Robert and Susan rounded the corner of the tent and stopped short when they saw the lean, tan, muscular man in a black leather vest and jeans, sitting on a deep red motorcycle. His hand was interlocked with the professor's.

"Oh yeah," Robert said quietly in Susan's ear. "He definitely looks like the stuffy type."

Susan's elbow jabbed up into his side and she quickly straightened her long sandy hair.

"Come along and meet some of the staff," Arlan said, gesturing towards the tent. He stopped short when he turned and saw two of his lead students standing at the corner.

"Oh," he said in surprise.

David swung his leg over the bike and stepped up behind the professor.

"David," Arlan said graciously, "this is Robert Bennett and Susan Wood, the two graduate students that accompanied me from London."

David shook both of their hands and introduced himself.

"So," Robert asked, somewhat dubious. "You're an archeologist?"

David heard the skepticism in the young man's voice and smiled.

"Only on weekends," he said. "Professor MacGhee suggested that I take a look at some of the artifacts that you've recovered so far."

"Yes," Arlan said quickly. "They're in here. Follow me, please."

David followed the Doctor to one table where several items were laid out carefully. David's breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the table. There, opened up for examination, was the deerskin jacket that Katrina had bought Gabrielle one year before. He laughed quietly.

"As you can see," Susan said. "This is a modern garment, but it was found in the tomb with the rest of the occupant's belongings. Until we found the scroll, we were unable to understand how it might have gotten there. Do you know where this came from?"

David nodded, smiling. "It's a place called Suburban Harley Davidson, just outside Chicago," he said. "Cost me three hundred dollars, too."

"Well," Robert replied sarcastically. "I'd say you got your money's worth."

Susan glared at her coworker and then moved further down the table. "We also discovered woven cloth, similar to denim, and a more tightly woven cotton that seemed to be of modern make." She pointed at the nylon tag. "This was affixed to the tunic."

"The clothing she was wearing the night she went back," David said, his humor fading.

Susan paused, looking up at the Professor. He merely nodded and raised his eyebrows. "So she was in modern garments at the time, and she saved those items for the rest of her life and was buried with them?"

"That's what it looks like," David murmured. He quickly relayed some of the events regarding Gabrielle and the Chronos Stone. When he finished, the two young people looked skeptical. Susan frowned and then looked at her mentor.

"This is crazy," she blurted. "I'm sorry, sir. But how are we supposed to publish our findings without being laughed out of academia?"

"Very discreetly," Arlan answered with unnerving calm.

Robert, also highly skeptical, piped in. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, but there's no way that any of this is possible. I have to agree with Susan on this one. The carbon dating must be wrong somehow. Or someone got in here before us and contaminated the whole bloody site. If that's the case, we might as well pack up and go home?"

Professor MacGhee was clearly ruffled by this poor treatment of his guest, but said nothing. He simply looked at David and gave a subtle nod of his head.

David extended his hand to the two interns. "Of course," he said brusquely. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. You experts seem to have everything well in hand and don't need help from someone like me. Thank you for showing me this." He stalked away, pausing to pick up the post mortem report. Then he turned back and looked at Robert with dark, shimmering eyes. "But consider something that I know to be a fact." He dropped the sheet of paper back on the table as if it hurt him to touch it. "You could send samples of those clothes to every dating lab in the world and you'd get the same result. Are they all wrong then?" He vanished out into the sunlight.

Professor MacGhee fixed both of his students with an icy glare. "We shall discuss this later," he said gruffly. "In very elaborate detail." He turned and followed David outside.

Arlan took David by the arm and led him towards the opening in the rocks. "Come with me, quickly," he said. "The digging crew is resting for their afternoon meal. The tomb should be deserted." He looked back at the main tent. "I apologize about that, in there. Apparently they are not as open minded as I hoped."

David shrugged. "Would you have believed me if I didn't have the Amulet to back it up?"

Arlan nodded. "Good point." Then he pointed at a recently excavated opening. "This way."

They entered the dark, cool cave and moved quickly deeper into the side of the hill. At the end of a narrow tunnel, a large room opened up on the left. Work lights strung on cords dangled in from the ceiling, bathing the room in dim yellow light.

Before the two of them rested three sarcophagi, with a fourth one showing under a partially removed pile of rubble.

The lids of all three sarcophagi were gone, presumably being photographed and cataloged before being replaced. David stepped over to the first one; instinctively knowing it was hers. The body was nothing more than bones, lying where they had collapsed all those eons ago.

David knelt down at the head of the casket and looked down at the brown skull resting within.

"Hey, beautiful," he whispered. A lump suddenly formed in his throat. "I've missed you."

Arlan saw the tears welling up in David's eyes and he fidgeted for a moment.

"I'll leave you alone with her," he said in a kindly tone. "Take all the time you need. No one will disturb you while I keep vigil."

David nodded, never taking his eyes off the body.

"Professor," David called suddenly. "Have a security gate installed today. Just in case."

"You think that's necessary?" Arlan asked.

David looked up at him and shrugged. "You never know."

Arlan considered for a moment and then nodded. "I'll see to it." He turned and walked back toward the entrance.

"He's a good guy, after you get to know him," David said to her a few moments later. "I don't think he believed a word of it till we landed in Athens this morning." His voice broke. "But then you're hard to believe." His fingers clutched the edge of the coffin. The memories were a palpable pain in his chest. A sob burst from him. His fingers gently caressed the top of the withered skull.

"God I miss you," he said. "I'd give anything just to hear your voice."

Suddenly, the memories of her flooded his mind. Every sound, every touch, every expression. He saw her green eyes staring up into his and remembered the sound of her laughter. Saw her laughing among the rest of his extended family. Felt her leaning against his shoulder as they sat at night, gazing up in wonder as an airplane coasted across the heavens. He remembered her eyes looking into his with that mixture of anticipation and desire, the feel of her skin, warm and soft under his fingers. He saw her, once more, asleep against his chest, her face totally peaceful, and the tears fell. The emotions, held back for all that time, came rushing out and he fell to his knees at her side, his fingers stroking the top and side of the skull.

He looked down and through the burning tears, saw something wedged in the corner of the coffin, under the cluster of bones that had been her left hand. His emotion suddenly receded, overcome by his curiosity as he looked more closely.

"What have you got here?" he asked her. Gingerly, he reached into the coffin and gently pulled the item free. It was a ring. A simple gold band topped by a small diamond. Absently wondering why the crew hadn't removed and cataloged it, he examined it closely. Even his untrained eye could see that it was not classical in design, it was just like – he suddenly felt like laughing as he realized what it was, and he slipped the thing into his pocket. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of the skull gently.

"God, I love you," he said, almost weeping again. "I gotta go. Got some things to take care of."

Gaining control of his sudden elation, he tried to put on the somber look of a person leaving a funeral and exited the cave. Arlan stood out in the bright sunlight. He shook David's hand and smiled sympathetically.

"I know it wasn't what you wanted to see," he said, fumbling for the correct words. "But you were right. You deserved to say your good-byes to her."

David nodded, looking back at the entrance. "Thanks, Arlan." He smiled. He began walking towards his motorcycle. After a few paces, he turned back.

"You're okay, Professor," he said with a smile. "I hope to see you again in the future."

Arlan nodded and raised his hand as he accepted a sheet of paper from one of the other students.

"David!" He called quickly. "A moment, if you please?"

David stepped back over as Arlan read through the official looking document. He sighed.

"This is the post mortem on Gabrielle," he said somberly. "You may want to see this?"

David took the form in his trembling hand and read the final summation at the bottom.

"…_Death was caused by an intrusion to the left chest region by a sharp object. Based on damage to the surrounding bone structure and angle of entry, the intrusion severed the heart. Death would have been nearly instantaneous. Approximate age at time of death would have been between twenty-five and thirty years…"_

Arlan watched David closely as he read the report. He instantly saw the pain in David's expression. A chill ran up the professor's spine as that pained expression slowly began to change.

A fire kindled in the young man's dark eyes, and the trembling ceased. When David looked back at him, the professor caught his breath. Never in his long years had he seen such fierce determination. David's lips twisted into something resembling a snarl, and he crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it away.

"No," he growled.

"David," Arlan said sympathetically. His voice stuck when David fixed that dark glare upon him.

"No," was all he said and he turned and walked towards the bike. His entire manner had shifted. He was no longer the former student he had tutored. Now he was a hunter, stalking prey. What that prey was, the professor could not guess.

David climbed back onto the motorcycle and fired up the engine.

"Lets go," he said to the bike and he bounced off down towards the main road.

Once they were out of sight of the excavation, David pulled over.

"I need to get a few things," he said to himself. He scanned the horizon and saw a small town a few miles away. Twisting the throttle, he headed in that direction

David grinned mischievously as the Mediterranean wind washed over him. "I need to find a place that sells hunting gear."

He found a small motel in the nearby town and got directions to various shops that would have the supplies he would require. The small sporting goods shop he needed was about ten miles away. David found the place easily enough and went in, his eyes scanning the various aisles for what he needed. He moved quickly up and down, selecting several items. Two large duffel bags, a pair of sturdy black hunting boots, a long black canvas overcoat, black hunting vest, gloves, and various other anticipated necessities. He set the large pile on the counter in front of a very surprised proprietor.

"Starting from scratch, are we?" he asked as he rang up the small box containing a compact three man pop tent.

"Well," David said, trying to sound conversational. "It's easier than trying to deal with customs." He waited patiently. Fingers drumming on the hard wood as the total increased. Once the proprietor was done, he looked up at David with an inviting smile.

"Can I get anything else for you, sir?"

"Yes," David said, his eyes scanning several fiberglass bows hanging on the wall behind the shop owner.

"I need a collapsible compound hunting bow, about two hundred pound draw," David said. "The best one you have."

The proprietor smiled and turned, selecting a finely built camouflage olive and charcoal bow. "This one is one of the best," he said with an air of authority. "Two hundred twenty pound draw. Excellent release velocity and low maintenance. Plus, it's collapsible, so you can pack it into a small case for transport. I think it would do you well." He handed the weapon over to David for inspection.

David took the lightweight weapon and experimentally drew back on the string. He glanced back up at several others before nodding. "I'll take it, and I need twelve extra strings."

"Of course," the man said, a slight frown creasing his brows. He fished about under the counter and came up with twelve bundled bowstrings sealed neatly in plastic.

"Now," David said. "The most durable shafts you have. And do you carry Muzzie points?"

"Of course," the man said. "How many would you need?"

"How many have you got?" David countered with a wry smile.

David paid for the merchandise and began to quickly pack it into the large knapsacks he had purchased. The proprietor watched him for several moments. Finally his curiosity could no longer be quelled.

"If I might ask," he said. "What is all this for?"

"I'm going camping," David said mysteriously. "For a very long time."

"How long?" The proprietor asked.

David shrugged. "I need to find a place to pick up some clothes and then a jewelry store."

"Very well," The man said. Again, David received directions, and he thundered off down the narrow road.

He found a clothing store and made a quick trip of that one, then he rode to the next town before he found a jewelry store. By this time, the long flight and off-hours of jet lag were beginning to take their toll on him. The sun was high, but beginning its slow descent to evening.

David stepped into the jewelry store and began browsing about, looking at the different items beneath the cool glass. The keeper was a kindly looking middle aged woman with silver gray hair and deep, inquisitive blue eyes. She smiled when she saw David peering through the glass counter top at the wedding sets.

"May I show you something?" She asked cordially.

David continued to scan the contents of the display until he found what he was looking for.

"That one," he said. "I want that one, there."

The woman removed the ring and presented it to him. He smiled at it in recognition.

"I'll take it," he said.

The woman took the ring back and placed it in a fabric case.

"Does she know this is coming?" she asked knowingly as she wrote up the bill of sale.

David smiled and rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling weary. "Not yet."

"You think she'll say yes?" the woman continued.

"God, I hope so," David replied.

The woman placed the box on the counter and took David's credit card. She looked at him appraisingly as the card was being processed.

"You haven't slept much, have you?" she asked.

"No," David said. "I just got here earlier today. I guess it's starting to show."

"May I make a suggestion?" the woman said kindly. "Before you propose, you might want to take some rest first?"

David grinned. "No rest for the wicked, ma'am. Besides, if I don't do this soon, I think I might lose my nerve."

She smiled understandingly. "Well, good luck to you."

David signed the receipt and shook the woman's hand.

"Hotel now?" he asked himself, surveying the overloaded luggage rack behind the back seat. He nodded. "Hotel."

The hotel was a tiny, single story edifice that sprawled across a large patch of unspoiled field. David went to his room and unloaded the bags, placing everything on the single bed in the tiny room.

He looked at the clock. It was nearly five PM. He sighed. "Gotta go, gotta go."

He stepped out onto the wooden porch and looked at the setting sun. His eyes drifted down to the rolling green and gray hills, watching as the shadows slowly lengthened.

As he gazed across the narrow street, he saw a small pharmacy and another fragment of his idea fell into place.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the pharmacy with several small boxes and several very thick books.

Once back in his room, he sorted through all his gear and began packing it all carefully into the two knapsacks.

It was just before eight o'clock when David finally finished stuffing the last of the gear into the bags. He stepped out into the late evening, watching as the rays of the sun peered over the western hills.

In his hand he held three envelopes. He slipped them into the inner pocket of his long coat and wrestled with the tie downs as he strapped the two large bags to the back of the bike.

"Okay," He sighed. "Game time."

He stopped at a local post office and dropped two of the envelopes in the box. One to Shilah, and the second to Debbie. Then he dropped the ring he had found in the crypt into the third envelope along with a note. He wrote on it. "Professor Arlan MacGhee" and sealed it, slipping it back into his pocket.

Once back outside, David climbed back onto the bike. He was feeling the hours. His false eye was itching intolerably. He rubbed it and wiggled it about slightly, forcing his tear duct to work. That helped a little. Then he tilted his head sharply from one side to the other, feeling the bones crack loudly, and that helped a bit more.

"You're going to run yourself into the ground," he muttered, shaking his head.

The shadows were long and the moon was shining pale in the night when David coasted the motorcycle up to the side of the darkened tent.

A single figure came out to greet him wearing a blue uniform of a security guard.

"Can I help you?" he asked gruffly. David fished out the card that Arlan had given him, granting him access to the dig site, and handed it and his passport to the guard.

"I'm here to look at some of the artifacts recovered earlier today," he said politely.

"It's a little late, don't you think?" the guard asked suspiciously.

"Not in Chicago," David smiled. "I'm still dealing with the time difference." He shrugged. When the guard seemed unconvinced, David looked up at the stars and sighed impatiently.

"Look," he said. "If you need to confirm anything, contact Professor MacGhee. He knows me, and he knows why I'm here."

The guard considered that option for a moment and then shrugged. The identification and the pass were in order. He handed them back to David. "I cannot let you stay the night, but if you have a few things that you can do quickly, I'll allow it."

David forced the bleary feeling from him and smiled. "No problem. It'll only take a few minutes." He got off the bike and stretched.

As they walked towards the tent, David stared up at the stars again. "Beautiful night," he said conversationally.

The guard said nothing. David reached out to move the flap of the tent, his hands just touching the fabric, and then he wheeled around and slammed his fist into the startled guard's jaw. The man launched himself skyward and landed with a thud, unconscious.

"Sorry about that," David said genuinely. He fished out a roll of electrical tape and went to work, binding the guard's wrists and ankles. Then he removed the pistol from the guard's holster. "Just blame it on us crazy Americans." He patted the unconscious guard's shoulder. "Everyone else does." He dragged the limp form into the tent and began fishing for the keys to the security gate. There were none!

"Oh shit," he muttered as panic set in. He found a small key ring, but none of those keys were to a padlock. Car keys, a handcuff key, and a house key. "Shit!"

There had to be a second security guard walking a beat somewhere in the compound. He could be back, looking for his partner at any moment.

He ran to the bike and snapped the tie downs free, slinging the massive knapsacks over his shoulders. Glancing down at the pistol, he frowned and then tossed it into the shadows, hearing it bounce several times. He took his bow and quickly assembled the components. The two quivers of prepared arrows went over the rest of the gear. Then he popped the saddlebag and removed his long thick bowie knife and hooked it onto his belt. The blade hung down to just above his knee.

"I'm screwed, I'm screwed, I'm screwed," he kept repeating as his eyes scanned the surrounding shadows furtively. He notched an arrow to the bow and began moving deeper into the compound. He needed those damn keys!

Something snapped around the corner of another, smaller tent and the second guard stepped into view.

David reacted, raising the bow and drawing back on the string.

"Hi," he said in surprise. The point of the arrow shone coldly in the moonlight.

David nodded to the holster on the man's hip.

"Gun," he said. "Two fingers, slowly."

The guard considered his position for a moment and decided that discretion would serve him best. He did as instructed and held the weapon between his thumb and forefinger.

"Toss it," David instructed. The second pistol bounced several times in the shadows.

"Good boy," David continued. "Now, open the gate."

David covered the sweating guard as he walked slowly towards the newly installed security gate and opened it.

"Step back," David said and he moved around, backing into the opening.

"Now," he said. "Close it and lock it."

Again the guard complied. David smiled. "Toss the keys in here."

The keys clattered on the stone floor at David's feet.

David let the tension on the quivering string ease and he lowered the bow.

"Grab your partner and get the hell out of here," he said.

The guard turned and fled.

"Ready?" he asked himself as he watched the guard flee without retrieving his coworker; the adrenaline washed away his weariness. He nodded. "God, I hope I'm right!"

David ran deeper into the tomb and procured a flashlight from the pocket of his coat. The feeble light penetrated the darkness as he moved quickly back to the burial chamber. The clock was ticking now. At best, he had twenty minutes to execute his plan, if everything went right, he would be gone before anyone arrived with a second key, or a truck big enough to pull the gate down.

He passed into the tomb, dropping his gear next to Gabrielle's sarcophagus.

"Hey, sweetie," he said to her. "Told you I'd be back."

His tiny light panned through the gloom and fell on a discarded pick and shovel.

"Okay," he said to her. "Now, where would you have put it? I know it's in here. Would you have kept it? No. They would have found it with you and it would have been in the tent with the other stuff. One of the kids? I doubt it. So, that leaves only one option left."

He stepped up to the partially buried sarcophagus and studied the engravings on it.

"Me." He continued, looking at the exposed surface. "Always assuming this is me?"

That revelation gave him pause. Was he standing there, looking at his own grave? The idea of it sent a chill of horror up his spine.

"Okay, this is mildly freaky." he murmured.

Using the pick, he began to pry some of the stones loose, attempting to dig out the sarcophagus. There was no need for subtlety now. He was in and he had precious little time. He shattered stone and other artifacts buried in the rubble, clearing off the top of the grave. Any markings upon it were long ago erased by the passing of time. He wiped sweat from his brow and forced his weariness away as he dug deeper and deeper into the broken earth.

"So," he spoke to Gabrielle's bones. "I was wondering if you'd like to come back here, with me, when this is all over. You know, set up house, couple of kids, maybe a dog?" He grinned fiercely as desperation fueled his determination. "Just a thought. You don't have to answer right away. Take your time." He glanced at the open coffin and smiled. "Just think about it."

Three sides of the coffin were cleared. At the head end was a small stone, resting on the floor. It was like a step that would allow a person to stand at the head of the grave and place offerings upon it. David noted it and continued. He wedged the pick into the small crevice between the lid and the wall of the stone box. Prying with all his might, he heard the stone grate. Then he heard another noise. He froze and held his breath. The silence descended on him again. Paranoia began to spike within his mind.

"Shit!" He grunted and he forced the heavy lid to rise a few inches. The end of the pick popped out and the lid slammed shut with an echoing thud.

"Dammit!" David held the pick in both hands and brought it down hard on the smooth surface. It cracked under the blow.

David winced at the damage. "Sorry, Prof," he apologized. A second, and then a third swing and a chunk of the lid separated from the whole. Dropping the pick, David wedged his fingers in the gap and pulled the errant piece off.

David panned his light within the space beneath. He saw the bones of a body, for all he knew it was his own body. But there was nothing else in the coffin. Just bones and shreds of clothing. He ignored all that, rifling through the space, searching for a secret panel, or a small box. There was nothing, no Chronos Stone, no nothing. David growled with frustration. He walked around the three sides, hoping that the stone wasn't buried deeper in the rubble. His eyes fell back on the skull within, sitting upright, grinning at him. Maybe his skull?

"What are you grinning at?" he asked the fleshless face.

Then he heard the sound again. A metallic clink of someone trying to quietly force open the gate.

Someone else was attempting to break into the tomb, and he had a pretty good idea who that might be.

David scanned the room again, desperately trying to figure out where the stone might be hidden. There was nothing to indicate a hidden panel or secret door. He tapped on the walls experimentally, to no avail.

"It's got to be here, dammit!" he thought. Once again, his eyes fell on the small square block of stone at the head of the sarcophagus. "I couldn't be that blatant, could I? Then again, if you want to hide a tree?" In desperation he swung the pick against it and heard the hollow thud as the stone chipped.

"Yes!" he hissed. He swung the pick again and again until the stone shattered revealing a small rotting leather pouch. He snatched it up, feeling the leather crumble in his fingers. As he peeled the rotting skin away, he saw a familiar green glint.

There was a sharp staccato report and the sound of hinges creaking.

At the same moment, the lights in the tomb came on and footsteps echoed in the corridor.

David ran to his gear, quickly shouldering the bags and scooping up his weapon. When he looked up, there was Alti, eyes glaring at him. One of the discarded revolvers in her hand.

"Put that down!" she growled.

"This is the second time in two years that someone has pulled a gun on me," David said with annoyance. He surveyed the hag in front of him.

She was dressed in dirty clothes, probably the same ones she had worn a year ago. Her hair was greasy and unkempt and her eyes were wild with madness and desperation.

"I don't think so," David said, grinning like a savage. "You shoot that and I drop this, it shatters into a million bits." He slowly moved the Chronos Stone into her line of fire. "Drop the gun, or it gets broke. You don't want that, now, do you, Alti?"

The defrocked Shamaness stared at David with eyes that would have sent normal men into panic. However, here, faced with a man who had nothing to lose, her anger only seemed to amuse him.

"Give me the stone!" she screamed. "I must get out of this time! My powers don't work here! You crippled me a year ago, and I can do nothing!"

David held the stone in both hands, his eyes searching the angry woman before him.

"Yup," he thought. "She will kill me and risk it, rather than let it go."

"Okay," he said slowly. He handed the stone out towards her slowly. "Okay, fine. Take it."

Alti stepped slowly forward and reached out for the artifact in David's hands. That simple movement took him out of harms way of the pistol for just a second. His foot came up and struck the wrist holding the gun. The shot exploded and the gun bounced into Gabrielle's sarcophagus.

David shoved the woman back with all his might. She slammed against the wall with a thud and stared at him, eyes bleary from the impact.

"First you want to ruin my time, and now you want to go back and ruin someone else's?" David said. "You didn't get the Stone before and you sure as shit aren't getting it now!"

"I must get out of this time! Help me, or I'll tear your heart out!" She screamed at him.

"Well, while I worry about that, you think about this," David said, holding the stone out in front of him. "You've just broken into a secured archeological site, restrained and disarmed two guards, and shot the lock off the security gate into the place. The cops are gonna love you." He laughed out loud. "Enjoy the twenty first century, Alti."

Then there was a pulse of green light and he vanished, just as several members of the local police burst into the room.

"Doctor Bernadette Klaus" reached out to the empty space and screamed in rage.

The universe spun around him in a never-ending collision of possibilities. He stood within the eye of a hurricane, watching the ages whirl past him.

"Focus," David thought to himself. His mind imagined Gabrielle, her village, the surrounding countryside. He saw the flow of time, working backwards like a series of strobing instants and he realized that he could move, but he couldn't breathe. He walked out into the world beyond the crypt and stared in wonder as the ages flowed like a movie rewinding at high speed. The buildings that had been nearby dwindled and vanished, as did the roads and the distant lights of Athens. Stars whirled in the heavens spinning madly as the ages rolled backwards. There was a howling like a million voices in his ears.

Through it all he began to make out a single nebulous tendril of energy. It had separated from him a few moments ago and was stretched out beyond the horizon. The ancient walls of Potedia seemed to rebuild themselves as if by magic. He realized he was looking at the energy left over from his and Gabrielle's one night together. That night of passion had linked them forever. The moment was getting closer. She was getting closer! His lungs were burning from lack of air, still he held on, trying to ignore the sensation.

"Need to slow down," he thought, trying to control the reckless speed at which he traveled. "Think HG Wells. Slow down. Slower, slower, slower."

The spinning of the universe complied and he watched as the stars settled and the tendril of energy faded and vanished. Blessed oxygen filled his lungs and he breathed deeply a few times, forcing himself to stay on his feet, though his legs felt like rubber.

He stood at the entrance to the tomb, now only partially constructed. Ancient tools lay against some of the fallen stone and a discarded water skin rested on top of a flat wooden table. The sun was hidden behind a layer of thick gray clouds and the wind was chill and damp. David looked out towards the village, now alive with people and restored to its former shape. He let a laugh escape his lips as he looked at it.

"It worked," David said, patting his pocket, and then he frowned. A procession was approaching. Four men carried a bier, followed by several other individuals, all with somber expressions.

David scrambled up the hill and concealed himself in a thin row of shrubbery at the top, just above the tomb entrance.

"What the Hell?" David asked the wind as he looked down at the scene. The four men were dressed in the military uniforms of the latter Greco-Roman period. They carried the bier with slow, steady, and deliberate steps, their eyes never wavering from the entrance. Behind came several people. They were obviously friends and family of the departed. His eyes fell on three individuals and he paused.

"No way," he mouthed.

A short, frail looking woman moved with the stiffness of old age, her head covered in a dark veil. At either side came two other figures, young and lithe. Her children, presumably. A young man, dressed in simple travelling armor, with a short sword strapped at his back, and a taller woman, similarly dressed. The man was only a bit taller than the old lady, with fierce green eyes and thick sandy hair, brushed back in a mane that fluttered in the cool breeze. The woman was taller, with dark brown hair and thoughtful brown eyes. They wore somber expressions as they looked down at the bier.

"Oh, I'm not liking this," David whispered. His hand reached slowly into his pocket.

He strained to see the body on the bier, but the thick white cloth covering it obscured its features. At the same moment, his foot snapped a twig with an audible crack.

The procession halted, and the two young people looked about nervously.

"I gotta get out of here," David said, pulling the stone free. Then without knowing quite why, he rose to his feet and looked down at them.

The two young people saw him and immediately stepped up in front of the elderly woman. Instead of cowering behind them, she pushed them apart and stepped forward, raising the veil. Her green eyes looked up at him, and her wrinkled face became an expression of wonder.

Even after the passing of the years, David recognized Gabrielle.

He stood above the tomb, his bow in one hand, his long coat flapping in the breeze like ghostly wings. He raised the bow in salute and took a deep breath. There was a soft green glow, and he smiled at her as he vanished.

Gabrielle stared at the spot where the apparition had appeared, her withered hands rising up to her mouth and fresh tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. "David?" she whispered.

"Mother?" the young man asked her as he put a comforting hand on her bony shoulder. He looked back up at his sister and then at the vacant space above the corpse on the bier.

"It's alright, Alex," Gabrielle reassured him. "It's alright."

"Who – what was that?" the woman asked, also looking at the space.

Gabrielle patted her daughter's hand. "Xena, dear," she said. "That was your father."

All three of them looked back up at the space where David had appeared and vanished. Gabrielle smiled a knowing smile. "I'll see you again, soon."

The universe was spinning again. David heard its rushing wail all around him as he moved further back in time, his mind reeling at what he had just seen while at the same time, struggling against the fatigue to remain focused on his task.

"Not far enough," he thought. "Must go further. Just a bit further." He felt the universe tumble for a while longer and then the feeling in the pit of his stomach as he slowed back down. His mind was on fire from the exertion. The held breath burst from him once he stopped again. This time, he did drop to his knees.

The moon shone brightly, partially waxed.

David blinked and quickly slid the bulky artifact back into the inner pocket of his coat and then he breathed wearily. His head was pounding as if it might explode.

He was aware of several things. The air was cleaner, he could feel it. And it was silent, except for the sounds of the night animals. There was no noise beyond that of nature. The subliminal sounds of the modern world were completely silent.

Looking out past the nearby hills, he spied a small campfire flickering within the confines of the forest. Shouldering his packs, he walked toward it, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears. All the weariness of the past two days was replaced by a sudden apprehension. Did he go back far enough? Did he do it correctly? Would Gabrielle even be happy to see him? Would she say yes? The evidence pointed to the definite possibility. The ring had been in her tomb. Then the spectacle he had seen – will see – oh god, just thinking about it made his head hurt more.

Those doubts and others began to ricochet through his mind. How much of the path was actually chosen? How much, if any, was fate?

His boots crunched on the dead leaves and branches as he approached the camp. He felt no need for stealth. He was a traveler on the road, looking to share a campfire with another traveler. Where was the harm in that?

He entered a small round clearing and found it void of a human occupant. Across from the fire stood a fine tan mare with a pale white mane and tail. The horse turned its head towards him and gave a snort. The thoughtful brown eyes of the horse considered him for a moment, and then looked away.

David felt something sharp touch the back of his neck.

"Looking for someone?" Whispered a husky female voice.

David let his bow drop to the ground and raised his hands.

"Yes, actually," he said, smiling when he heard the ancient Greek language.

"Looks like I found someone, too."

He slowly turned around and met the gaze of a tall, proud warrior in dark armor. Her pale blue eyes bored into his with icy detachment. Her dark hair shimmered in the light of the fire.

The combination of the revelation of who she had to be, along with the lack of sleep made his laugh sound somewhat manic.

"Xena, right?" he said, grinning like an idiot. "Holy shit! I've heard so much about you, I mean I've heard a lot about what you've done in the past, or will do, or, oh Hell," he extended his hand, suddenly unconcerned by the sword pointed at his chest.

"I'm David," he introduced himself.

Xena's icy stare changed to one of confusion and then mild concern. "Okay?"

"I'm not a lunatic," David said quickly. "I've had a real long day – two days actually, not including the jet lag and all that, but I digress." He paused suddenly, looking at her. "How've you been?"

"Oh, I'm doing great." Xena let the sword lower, though she did not relax. The man before her was a babbling idiot!

David suddenly rubbed his eyes and fought his giddiness down. "Wait," he said. "I know what this looks like. I've been on the go for almost three days with no food and no sleep. I must seem like a madman."

"Not at all," Xena lied.

David looked behind him at a nearby tree stump. "Do you mind if I sit? I really need to sit."

Without the manic behavior, Xena suddenly realized that this wild-eyed man was actually on the verge of collapse.

She gestured to the stump and nodded. "Go ahead."

"Thanks," David said and he dropped the two large packs to the ground and dropped onto the smooth flat surface. "I feel like week old bread."

"You look it," Xena said, standing opposite the fire, just in case. She studied him carefully for a few moments as he situated himself. She saw the scar crisscrossing his left eye and winced at what that must have felt like. The man had obviously been in battles before. His clothing was strange. She didn't recognize any of the symbols or colors on his inner black vest. He let his two outer jackets flop open and breathed deeply. "Where are you travelling from?"

"Chicago. The northwest suburbs, actually, if you want to get technical?" David said automatically. When Xena frowned, David waved his hand dismissively. "Nevermind. Long, long story."

David reached into the side pocket of one of the bags and removed a small silver, rectangular bundle. He tore the top of it off and removed a thin wafer of what looked like pressed nuts. He munched on it thoughtfully and sighed.

David looked up at the warrior before him, as if appraising her.

"Yup," he nodded. "You are exactly as she described you."

"Who?" Xena asked.

"Your friend, Gabrielle," David answered. Suddenly his gaze changed to one of alarm.

"Wait a second," he said. "If you're here, then." He closed his eyes and groaned. "Oh shit. That's twice!" he looked back up at Xena nervously. "Um, where is she?"

"She's in Athens," Xena answered, still confused by this stranger. "At the Bards Academy. How do you know her?"

"Another long story, I'm afraid." David said. "I just came from – " he stopped.

"From where?" Xena's voice dropped to a menacing tone. Suddenly, she suspected foul play on the part of this man.

David looked up at her. "From, uh, her tomb?"

Xena's eyes widened in shock for just a moment and then she was across the flames with her weapon at David's throat.

"What are you talking about?" sShe hissed. "If you've done anything to her!"

David held his hands up in supplication. His much needed energy bar fell into the muddy soil. "Whoa! Easy! Easy! I haven't done anything to her! She's fine, for right now! Ah nuts, that didn't sound right! I mean it doesn't mean to sound like it sounded!"

"Start talking!" Xena growled.

"Okay, okay," David breathed. "God damn you're strong!"

"Well?" Xena's clenched fingers tightened on the collar of his coat.

"In the year twenty oh three," David said quickly. "An archeological dig discovered a tomb in the area of what you call Potedia. Hidden among the artifacts was an object called the Chronos Stone. It was buried there along with the family of a woman named Gabrielle. The ruins of Potedia itself were unearthed nearby."

Xena's eyes went wide and her grip loosened on the collar of the coat. Blessed air began to flood back into David's lungs. He took a few deep breaths and looked up at Xena with a new respect.

"Shit, lady," he said. "I recommend decaf in the future."

"Keep talking," Xena ordered.

David started to speak, but then he stopped. A sudden and terrifying realization hit him. "I can't," he finally said.

Xena stepped up again and her fingers jabbed into either side of his larynx. There was a crunch and David went stiff, unable to move. He could feel his pulse pounding between his ears.

"Pinch, right?" he gasped. "Yeah, she told me about that, too."

"Talk!" Xena barked.

"I can't," David hissed. "Anything I tell you will put Gabrielle's life in jeopardy! I won't do that!"

"You've got twenty seconds," Xena breathed.

David fought to keep his lungs working. There were stars flashing before his eyes. He tried furiously to think of something he could say that might change Xena's mind.

"She's going to help me defeat Alti," he finally gasped.

Xena's eyes went wide and her fingers jabbed again.

Instantly, the building pressure in David's skull vanished and he toppled forward.

"What about Alti?" Xena asked. "How do you know about Alti?"

He stumbled to his feet and stared at Xena with a mixture of anger and insult.

"God damn!" He blurted angrily. He wiped blood from his nose and held his hand up, showing the blood to the woman before him. "You are one maladjusted mistrustful bitch, you know that?"

Xena stared at him, her own expression somewhere between rage and respect.

"What about Alti?" Xena repeated forcefully.

David looked up at the sky, his own temper flaring.

"I can't tell you!" he shouted. "I wish I could, but I can't! You have to understand! Hit the pinch again, if you want to. Kill me if it makes you feel better, but I can't tell you!"

"Then how do I know you're telling the truth?" Xena pressed, folding her arms.

David threw his arms up in frustration and began pacing back and forth. "How in the hell did she deal with you?" he blurted.

Xena's eyebrow rose at that comment and a slightly bemused expression touched her face.

David thought furiously for a moment and then he stopped and pointed first at the bow lying on the ground and then at himself.

"Look at the way I'm dressed! Not exactly local fashion is it? Look at the bow I'm carrying!" David said, suddenly becoming harsh in his own right. "You're an expert where weapons are concerned. Tell me if you've ever seen anything remotely like that?" He gestured to the fallen bow with the arrows still attached to the front.

Xena stooped and picked up the weapon, studying it closely and then she looked at David again.

"I haven't," she admitted.

"Damn right! That's because it's made of a composite material about two thousand years ahead of your time!" David hissed. "What little I can tell you is the truth! I just can't tell you any more of it!"

"Okay," Xena said in a softer tone. She held up her hands in a calming gesture. "Okay. If this is true, and you are from some distant future. What are you doing here? And what do you want with Gabrielle?"

"I'm here," David said as he drew the Chronos Stone from his pocket and held it up. "Because I'm exhausted and can't focus clearly. I missed my exit – twice!"

"And Gabrielle?" Xena asked, but suddenly she understood the look in David's eyes.

"I –" David started. He seemed to consider for a moment and shook his head. "No. I can't." Then he looked at Xena earnestly. "And you can NOT tell her anything about me, you understand? You have to go on from now as if I never arrived here tonight! It is vital that you say nothing about me, our encounter, absolutely nothing!"

"Why?" Xena asked. "If you know her, she should know about it."

"Yes," David said. "She will. But not now! My very being here may have already altered things. If she learns anything about this conversation, I might never see her again! Talk about a Mongolian cluster-" He stopped himself, rubbing his head and trying to quell the sudden blinding headache.

Xena suddenly realized what she saw in this stranger's eyes. It was more than just a fear of changing the future. He was genuinely afraid of not finding Gabrielle somewhere in that future. She looked at the slumping, exhausted man before her, and her gaze softened.

"I have to go," David said suddenly, reaching for his packs. "I'm sorry to have barged in on you." He adjusted his equipment, looking like an overworked plow horse and stood before Xena holding out his hand.

Xena handed his bow to him, staring into his eyes. "Just tell me one thing," Xena asked suddenly. "Does everything turn out alright in the end?"

David took the weapon and smiled. "I don't know. That part of the story is still being written." He looked at her for one long moment, and then clasped her forearm.

"For what it's worth," David said. "It has been an honor to meet you." He smiled, rubbing the two spots on the front of his neck and then he turned away. "Nice to put a face to the stories I've heard." Xena watched him depart.

"You're in love with her," Xena called after him. "Aren't you?"

David stopped and looked back at her for a long time. He smiled wearily.

"No more than you are." He seemed to consider for a moment. "I envy you," he said suddenly. "Both of you. If you believe anything I've said tonight, believe this. You are at the beginning of an incredible adventure. At times you'll feel like you're going to break, but you never will. In the meantime, take care of her for me, alright?"

Xena smiled. "I'll see you again sometime," she said.

David opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Then he merely nodded his head. "Good-bye, Xena."

Without another word, David turned, bent by his load and vanished into the deepening gloom.

David reached the main road again and stared up into the shadowy arch of trees. The knapsacks on his shoulders felt like boat anchors. He shifted them again and tried to ignore the burning in his limbs and the throbbing in his head. He drew out the stone, wondering if he had the strength for another attempt.

"Just one more," he sighed. "I can do one more."

A voice spoke from the edge of the path, filled with mischievous good humor.

"Bouncing through time?" the female voice asked. "That's, like, totally gnarly."

There was a flicker of sparks, and the scent of fresh roses, and a young woman appeared in front of him. Her deep blue eyes looked at him with delight. Her long golden curls fell over her shoulders. She wore a pink outer robe of diaphanous material and two other pieces beneath that barely served the need for modesty.

"So, what are you doing in this neck of the woods, stranger?" She put her hands on her hips and smiled at him.

David let his arms drop to his sides and smiled.

"Aphrodite, right?" he asked.

"Mmm, my reputation precedes me?" she stepped up to him. "That's cool."

"Oh, yeah," David nodded. "I'm David."

"I know," Aphrodite stepped around him, looking him over as if she were trying to decide whether or not to have her way with him. Not an altogether unpleasant prospect. "And I've been watching you bounce around the vortex for the past forty years like a dragonfly." She leaned against his shoulder. "Looking for something in particular? Or someone?"

"Gabrielle," David said wearily. He really did not have the energy for this.

"And what do you want with my little girl?" Aphrodite asked. When David seemed reluctant to speak, she slapped his shoulder playfully. "Oh, you can tell me, silly. I am a Goddess after all."

David slipped the Chronos Stone back into concealment and drew out the fabric box. He popped it open and showed it to the Goddess of Love.

"That's pretty," Aphrodite smiled. She looked up at him curiously. "What does that have to do with my little friend?"

"It's an engagement ring," David said.

"Is that why you did all that crazy stuff back there? I mean up there?" she pointed back behind her and then forwards. Her voice became wistful. "Ooh, that's so romantic!" She practically bounced with glee.

"You know about all that?" David asked.

"Of course I do, silly," Aphrodite said. "Goddess, remember? I also saw all the stupid stuff Ares did. He's such a killjoy." She frowned. "Anyway. Why are you waiting to tell her?"

"I wouldn't if I could find her!" David snapped, starting to feel his temper grow short from lack of rest or caffeine.

Aphrodite looked at him with a pout on her lips.

"You don't have to get uppity about it," she chided him.

David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right. Sorry. I guess I'm a little strung out."

"Yeah," Aphrodite's face softened. "I can imagine. Mortals who do God things usually can't handle it. Still, you've done better than most."

"Thanks," David smiled. "But I still haven't gotten to where I need to go. And I can't do this much more?"

"And so, that's why I'm here," Aphrodite smiled, raising her arms and grinning. "You can't do this forever, and I can't let you, so. I'm here to get you where you need to go."

"Oh?" David's eyebrow rose. "The last time a deity popped up, the price was a bit much."

"Sweetie," Aphrodite held his scruffy chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Look with your good eye, okay? There's only one thing that I'm going to want from you if we do this."

"Here we go," David rolled his eyes towards the heavens.

Aphrodite looked at him for a moment, and smiled. "I want you to make her the happiest woman in Greece. Think you can handle that, studly?"

David looked back down at her in surprise. She seemed to find that immensely funny and she laughed, wrapping her pale arm about his shoulders.

"What if she says no?" David asked. "She doesn't have to say yes, you know?"

"After everything you did?" Aphrodite replied, slapping his chest. "If she says no, she's an idiot. But just in case, I could make sure –"

"No!" David protested loudly. Then he shook his head. "No. She can't really say yes if she doesn't have the choice to say no, can she?"

Aphrodite looked at him for a moment, and her smile widened. "You are a romantic, through and through." She shrugged. "Okay. If she says no, and you want to go home, I'll help you with that." She pinched his nose playfully. "But I know Gabby, and she's not stupid." She stepped in front of him and gestured to his pocket.

"Whip it out, big boy," she teased. He pulled the Chronos Stone from his coat and held it up.

"Okay," Aphrodite asked, smiling. "When to?"

"After Gabrielle gets back from my time," David said. Then he remembered. "But before Gurkhan's bounty hunters get a hold of her."

"Okay, hot pants," Aphrodite put her hands over his. "Here we go."

David took a deep breath and braced himself.

Nothing happened. Aphrodite released her grip on the stone and stepped back, grinning.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"We didn't?" he started, then he saw the walls of Potedia just a short walk away. He smiled and looked at the Goddess of Love.

"Smooth," he said, smiling. "Real smooth."

Aphrodite shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "Go get your girl, Shakespeare!" she said encouragingly and with a shower of sparks, she vanished.

David let the Chronos Stone fall back into the inside pocket of the coat and looked about him. He stood in the same forest as before, the sounds of the night animals surrounding him.

With deliberate steps, he began meandering through them.

David stepped around several massive trees and looked down on the ancient village. The gates were closed for the night and firelight could be seen twinkling between the cracks of the crudely shuttered windows and closed doors.

Adjusting the large packs on his back, David began to walk cautiously down toward the gates. As he came within torchlight, a voice called out to him from the wall.

"State your business!"

David smiled. "You wouldn't believe me," he thought.

He held his hands out in gesture of peace.

"I'm looking for Lila, sister to Gabrielle, a friend of mine!" he called back hoping his butchered Greek wasn't too strange to rouse suspicion.

A figure moved from the wall, and a few moments later, one of the gates was drawn inward. Two men wearing swords and carrying shields approached him. One of them carried a torch.

"Why have you come at so late an hour?" one of them asked. He seemed to note David's haggard appearance. "You look as if you've come a great way?"

"You have no idea," David replied wearily. "It has been a long road, and I did not wish to wait another night before seeing her. May I pass?"

The guard looked at him for a long moment and finally nodded. "You may enter. Lila's home it the third one on the left, down the main street."

"Thank you," David replied. "I'll find it. Good night."

The two men followed the stranger into the city and barred the gates behind him.

David walked down the quiet street, marveling at the fact he was actually there. He was standing in the land of Greece some two thousand years in the past. He smiled drunkenly at the thought. The smile faded and uneasiness began to build in his chest when he found the appropriate door. He knocked upon it gently.

"Lila?" he called out. "Lila, are you there?"

The latch was pulled and the door opened a crack. David saw a middle aged woman of about fifty years staring up at him from within.

"Yes?" she asked. "Who are you?"

"I'm sorry to be calling so late," David stammered. "I need to speak with Gabrielle. Is she here?"

"No," Lila replied. "She left." The door closed in his face.

"Lila, please!" David pleaded to the closed door. "I need to find out where she's gone. My name's David. I'm a friend of-"

The door was pulled all the way open and the woman looked at David with wide, astonished eyes.

"David?" she repeated. "You're David?"

"Yes," David replied. The look in Lila's face was one of wonder, mixed with fear.

"Come in, come in," Lila beckoned him into the small home.

"Where has Gabrielle gone?" David asked as he entered the cozy little home. A fire crackled in a small hearth, and a bed lay unkempt to one side.

Lila said nothing. She held David at arm's length and studied him for a moment and then a smile began to appear on her face.

"Yes," she said finally. "You are him. Gabrielle told me all about you." Her smile faded suddenly.

"Lila," David said earnestly. "Where is she?"

"Gone," Lila replied. "She left early this morning, as I said." The woman turned and went to a small table. "She was so sad. She told me all about what had happened, and then she said she was going away for a while. She didn't say when, or if she was coming back."

"Did she say where she might go?" David asked desperately.

"She said she might head south towards Athens, or even Corynth," Lila said. "David, you have to find her. I don't know why, but my heart tells me that she's in trouble."

David let his two bags drop to the ground. He gathered a few necessities and stood.

"May I leave these here, in your care?" he asked. "I'll travel faster without them."

"Of course," Lila nodded. "Now, go, before it's too late."

David took his bow and a quiver of arrows, slung them across his back and with a courteous bow, stepped back out into the cool night air.

The guards at the gate seemed surprised to see him so soon.

"The road to Athens," David asked as he approached.

The guard's mouth opened and shut a few times in confusion.

"The road, man!" David repeated with the air of a drill sergeant.

The guard pointed through the gate.

"Follow that path to the fork in the road and bear left," he stammered.

"Open the gate," David ordered and he moved towards the entrance. The door swung inward again and David jogged down the path.

The path followed a gently meandering course through several rocky hills and valleys. As David continued, he became acutely aware that his physical conditioning, though adequate, was severely lacking in stamina. He reached the fork in the road and continued to his left moving ever downwards. That helped a bit. At least he wasn't forced to fight gravity at the same time he was combating his own lack of endurance.

He came through a narrow pass and up a small slope before he stopped, breathing in deep, forceful gasps.

"Damn near three days without rest, and now this," he wheezed. He bent over and placed his hands on his knees as he looked down into the next shallow valley. He was heartened to see the tiny orange glow of a campfire not too far away. Smiling, he began to walk easily down towards the site. His hopeful anticipation faded to curious concern as he heard harsh voices coming from the site up ahead. He slowed down and stepped up into the rocky hill, moving as cautiously as he could.

He reached a small, sheltered outcropping and looked down on the camp. He could see four or five men, all with weapons drawn, milling about the fire. A sixth man stood guard over a seventh figure, which lay bound and gagged.

David's heart thundered in his ears when he saw that it was Gabrielle who lay bound and helpless.

One of the men was laughing loudly, flipping her sais in his fingers. "The bounty for her will make us all rich," he laughed. "Make sure the ropes are tight, lads. Gurkhan said he preferred her alive."

Gabrielle twisted under the tight bindings. That got her a boot in the gut for her trouble.

"He said preferred," another man hissed. "That doesn't mean he won't pay for your lifeless corpse."

Gabrielle looked up at him with defiant eyes.

David licked his lips. "Well, kiss my white ass," he muttered. "After she got back, but before the thugs got her. I guess there wasn't much of a window, was there?" He reached into his pocket and removed four small signal flares and his roll of electrical tape. Quickly he affixed the four flares to the end of one of his arrows and then notched it to his bow.

He drew back on the string and sighted the campfire. His heart was pounding.

"Okay," he said to himself. "Once this flies, Davie boy, you are in it up to your ass. You ready for this? You might have to kill one of them, or more? Its, one, two, three, four, five, six on one. Can you handle it?"

One of the men reached down and pulled Gabrielle up to a kneeling position by her hair. Even with the gag, David heard her cry of pain. The bounty hunter raised his weapon, the point aimed right at Gabrielle's heart.

"…_Death was caused by an intrusion to the left chest region by a sharp object…"_

Fury rose within him, instantly suffocating his conscience.

"Fuck it," he said and he loosed the arrow. It whistled through the air and struck in the center of the small fire. A few moments later, a brilliant blast of hot white light sent them all stumbling away as the magnesium in the flares ignited. They waved their hands in front of their faces, trying to clear the blinding spots in their vision.

The man that had been about to stab Gabrielle, dropped his weapon in surprise and stumbled to the side before he fell.

David didn't think. He just drew back on his bow and let a second arrow fly. This one struck the man who had just roughed up Gabrielle. He stumbled a few more paces into the shadows and fell.

David drew back again and shot a second man through the leg. He cried and fell over, writhing in pain. The fourth arrow struck the leader in the chest and he staggered backwards before sprawling on the ground.

"Three up – three down," David growled. "Time for the second inning."

David slung his bow on his back and drew out the two-foot long bowie knife. He ran down the hill and leapt across the path, his right knee slamming into one of the remaining bounty hunters. The knife descended and the man choked once and went limp.

Gabrielle seized the moment and tried desperately to get her wrists free. She looked up and saw a thick dark swirl of movement as a bounty hunter wrestled with this strange new apparition. Suddenly another shadow fell over her.

The last remaining bounty hunter brought the hilt of his sword crashing down upon her forehead, and everything flashed white with pain before fading to black.

She came back to consciousness slowly, one painful nerve at a time. The first thing she sensed was the sound of the fire, still crackling merrily. Then she smelled the scent of burning wood, and another, more leafy scent on top of it. She felt the ground vibrate under her ear as someone moved about, and she heard the sound of water being poured into a container.

Then the smell of something laden with unknown spices overpowered the other smells.

She tried to roll over and realized that her hands and feet had been unbound. She opened her eyes slowly, and the brilliant light of the fire fed the throbbing in her skull. She groaned and put a hand to her head, feeling something small and made of woven fabric stuck there.

Then she saw the shadow of a large man crouching next to the fire. Two small tripods rested directly above the merry flames. On one was a small silver bowl, steaming as the contents boiled. On the other was a second, taller pot with a tiny crystal protruding from the lid.

The figure was dressed in a long black cloak or coat and she saw the thick soles of tough black boots resting on the earth. The man's hair was long and hung in ragged strings from his scalp, damp either from the recent rain, or from sweating through physical exertion. A bow rested on his back and a quiver of arrows hung beside it.

He wore fingerless gloves on his large hands, one of them raising a metallic cup to his lips. She detected a nutty scent in the air beneath the others. The cup rose, lowered and then the other hand placed a long smoldering roll of tobacco in the mouth. The pungent smoke puffed out before him. It was a familiar scent, and her heart began to pound.

Gabrielle said nothing, her eyes still flashing with spots from the explosion and the blow to her head. She saw the shapes of several bodies, lying scattered nearby.

"You know," the man spoke in a voice that sounded hauntingly familiar. The cup rose and fell again, and he swallowed. "I'm a real dick when I don't get my coffee in the morning."

Gabrielle looked at the man and then back at the dead bodies nearby, then back at the stranger again. She knew that voice, but it was impossible!

"Anyway," the man continued. "I waited for over a year, you know, just to see if I could get along without you?" He sighed and took another long drag on the cigar. "Turns out that I couldn't. Besides, I always wanted to see the Parthanon before the roof came down."

Gabrielle got to her feet and stepped around, backing unsteadily away from the man. Her eyes were locked on him, waiting for him to rise, attack, or do something.

He did. His head turned towards her and she looked through the stray stands of hair into his deep brown eyes.

"Hell," David said. "I figured, if I couldn't show you Greece in my time, you might at least show it to me in yours?" His eyebrows rose questioningly. "That is, if you're interested in me sticking around?"

"David?" Gabrielle gasped.

David put the cigar between his teeth and grinned mischievously. His eyebrows rose and fell once. Then she saw the dark scar over his left eye.

"Interested?" he asked.

Gabrielle stepped towards him slowly, not daring to believe that he was real. She sank down to her knees in front of him, looking up into his eyes. Her fingers touched the fabric of his coat.

"Is it really you?" she asked. She looked at his injury and her lip began to tremble. "What happened?"

His fingers reached out and touched her cheek.

"I got it running Alti off the road, just after-," he stopped, tossing the butt of his cigar into the flames. Then he looked at her again and smiled. "How've you been?"

She fell into his arms and held him as tightly as she could, fearful that he might suddenly vanish from sight.

"Hey now," David whispered in her ear. "You didn't think I was going to let a little thing like Time stop me, did you?"

She looked at him suddenly. "How did you - ?"

"Ah," David grinned. "I found the Chronos Stone, where we'll leave it, in about forty years, or so"

"But I still have it," Gabrielle stammered. "I didn't destroy it."

"Lucky for me," David said. He reached into his pocket and drew the stone out, setting it on a nearby rock. Then he handed her a thick piece of firewood. "Would you like to do the honors?"

She seemed uncertain for a moment, and suddenly David swung the log down, shattering the stone into hundreds of tiny, glowing fragments.

"Oops," David said neutrally. "Well, I guess I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

Gabrielle stared down at the shards glowing on in the dust. As they watched, the glow within the shards of the crystal faded and died.

"And that," he said. "As they say, is that."

Gabrielle looked at him in shock.

"What have you done?" Gabrielle asked. "How will you get home?"

David reached into another pocket and drew out a small fabric wrapped box. He pressed it into her hand.

Confused, Gabrielle took the box and opened it. Within was a diamond ring. The gem flashed in the firelight.

"What is this for?" she asked.

"It's an old tradition." David said, suddenly getting nervous under her gaze. "Well, actually, now, it's a new tradition. Well, newer than it was a few days ago. Or something like that?" He stammered, suddenly fidgeting nervously. "A man gives a woman he cares for a ring like this when he wants to," he paused. "Well, I was wondering, um, oh Hell." He stood up and took her hands in his. "I don't want to go home without you. I've been doing a lot of thinking this last year and I realized that my 'home' was empty, because you weren't in it."

Gabrielle began to smile at his discomfiture. "David," she asked. "What are you trying to say?"

Off in the shadows, Aphrodite looked on, her fingers rubbing her chin in anticipation. She was smiling. "Go on," she whispered. "Go on, ask her." She took a step forward, and then a step back, forcing herself to remain where she was and simply watch. "I promised," she said for the hundredth time.

David took a deep breath. "I don't care where I am, as long as I'm with you. Always assuming that you wouldn't mind having me around for, say, the rest of our lives?"

"The rest-?" Gabrielle started to say then a look of dawning crossed her face and she began to smile.

"Gabrielle," David said. Then a nervous laugh escaped him and he shrugged. "I had this great speech all worked out."

David took the ring out of the box and slid it onto her left ring finger. He looked into her eyes.

"What do you think?" he finally stammered.

Gabrielle stared down at her hand, and then up into his eyes, her own filling with tears again.

"David?" she asked. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

David looked into her eyes and smiled.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "Yeah, I suppose I am?"

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

"Yes," she whispered.

From the shadows, Aphrodite grinned and quietly clapped her hands. She barely managed to contain her squeal of delight. "This is what is sooo cool about my job," she said and she vanished.

TBC

36


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Professor Arlan MacGhee paced about the tent, his patience at its limits. After everything that had happened before, and now this! Professor Bernadette Klaus had been hauled away by the local authorities, ranting like a mad woman and there was no explanation as to why David's motorcycle was parked outside the tent, even though the two Guards said that he had been the one to attack them. The police had sent for a tow truck to remove the suspicious machine, but the professor quickly quashed that idea.

As he stood there fuming, he suddenly realized.

"That young man still owes me an explanation!" He stepped out to the motorcycle and began rummaging through the saddlebags. Within the right one, he found the envelope with his name on it.

He tore it open and drew out a piece of paper and a worn, tarnished gold ring.

Frowning, he placed the ring in his pocket and opened the folded paper.

_Dear Professor,_

_I know you were expecting a letter of explanation. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to give you one right now. I do have a theory, however._

_Open the fourth Sarcophagus. You will find the explanation inside it - if I'm right._

_Take care of Rosie for me and take care of yourself._

_Good luck in the future._

_With respect,_

David 

"Professor!" Susan came running towards him, excitement showing on her face. "You're not going to believe this!"

His curiosity piqued, the professor slid the small note into his pocket and followed the excited student back into the cave. The far wall had been successfully excavated, revealing the damaged fourth sarcophagus. Robert was on the other side, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Gently, now!" Arlan exclaimed as he moved to assist.

On the opposite side of the sarcophagus was a stone storage block, with pigeon holes drilled into the hard surface. In each one, the end of a battered leather case could be seen.

"It's like the ones all those years ago," Arlan gasped. He counted the scrolls quickly. Twenty in all and his heart raced. The one in the top left pigeon hole had a small tarnished golden emblem embossed upon the end, and Arlan laughed out loud as he saw the crudely worked Harley Davidson shield. He drew it out carefully and took it with him.

"Have the rest of these sent to Athens immediately. I want complete translations, carbon dating, spectral analysis, the lot!" he moved towards the exit. "Susan! Come with me, please?"

Confused, the young intern followed the professor.

"Why aren't you sending that one?" she asked, once they were inside the tent.

Arlan held the scroll up, end first so she could see the emblem. Her eyes widened.

"It's from him," Arlan laughed.

"Who?" Susan asked, completely perplexed.

"David!" Arlan said, his laughter growing. "The young man who came here the other day! My former student!"

Susan pulled the thin rubber gloves over her fingers and gingerly took the scroll.

"Professor," she said. "That isn't possible."

"That side of the room was uncovered this morning, and yet the scroll is here, in your hands!"

Susan gently removed the end cap, feeling the ancient wood soft and gel like in her fingers. Within the tube were the wooden ends of a formal scroll, just like the ones found in Roman temples all over the empire.

Gently, she drew it out and examined the parchment. It didn't seem too brittle, but she grabbed a small bottle of liquid and gently sprayed the parchment as the two of them unrolled it.

They stopped and Arlan laughed out loud when he saw the first lines, written in Modern English.

_Greetings, Professor MacGhee! You wanted an explanation! Sorry it took so long for you to get it!_

Susan's fingers left the parchment as she felt her mouth drop in wonder.

Robert came in a few moments later with a fax in his hand.

"What's this?" Arlan asked, taking the report.

"Copy of the post mortem on the first body. Female, age fifty-five to sixty-five, cause of death is attributed to natural causes." Robert reported dutifully. "The second opinions on the modern fabrics also came in. They confirmed the initial findings, though I don't know how?"

"As I said," Arlan laughed. "Anything is possible."

Gently, the Professor and his students slowly unrolled the parchment, reading the words as they went.

END 

Authors note.

When I wrote the first draft of this story turned epic, I originally had planned for it to be a final adventure for Gabrielle, one where she ends up living "happily ever after" in the modern day world. As you can see, what began as a final journey has become a jumping point for all new adventures. I can promise you that those adventures are hatching inside my head as I type these words, so you won't have to wait long for the next one.

I want to thank everyone who has read this. I know it can be tedious at times, so thank you.

Sincerely,

Mike

3


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